A Song of Fire and Gold
by Little.Miss.Chloe
Summary: Evelyne Forrester had been raised to have a mind of her own. She had been raised to take care of herself. But when her brothers take her to a tournament at Crakehall she meets a man who seems determined to change all that. She will fight him tooth and nail if need be and prove to him that her House words have never been more true than when describing her. She is iron from ice.
1. Chapter One: Not Your Damsel in Distress

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you. The reviews are for me!)  
I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more. _

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My name is Chloe Jane and I broke my rule! I don't like having multiple active stories going at once. But here I go publishing a new one. I've been playing around with this idea for a while now, trying to figure out the details. I have an outline. I wrote it last night. But unlike my future Jon Snow story the outline wasn't enough.  
I NEEDED to write the first chapter. and then once the first chapter was done I NEEDED to publish it for you guys.  
So here it is.  
I have not abandoned Hell Hath No Fury. I will simply be publishing both stories. This one will not be updated as regularly as HHNF, (think once or twice every other week, instead of every day every other week) but it will get updated.  
As evidenced by this first chapter they won't be as long either. But I hope that that doesn't ruin the story for you!  
This is for my enjoyment as well as yours, after all.  
Okay then ... that's all I've got to say. Without further adieu ...

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 _Chapter One: Not Your Damsel in Distress_

She came to him dressed as a serving wench. That was Cersei's successful attempt to persuade him to give up his claim to Casterly Rock. A small part of him was ashamed that it worked so well, that he was willing to give up on everything he had dreamed of since he was a young boy just to get his hands on his twin sister.

But the larger part of him, the part he listened to, was too caught up in everything that was _Cersei_ to care about his weakness.

She pushed her way into his chambers and stepped straight into his arms. Rocking up on her toes so that she could press her lips against his, she whispered, "I have something to tell you."

"Tell me then," Jaime whispered back, one of his hands falling to his sister's waist, sliding around to the small of her back so that he could press her closer to him while the other reached up to pull the hood off of her head so that he could run his fingers through her blonde hair, so much like his own. "But tell me later."

She shook her head, though she did not move her lips away from his and her hands lifted so that she could untie her cloak, letting the heave fabric fall from her shoulders and pool around her feet. "It's too important," she told him as she pushed against his chest, pushing him backwards, following straight behind him.

She pushed and kissed her way further into the room. Jaime thought for a moment her protest was just a token one, that she would wait. It had been so long since the two of them had been together he could not understand what could be more important than the two of them _being together_. He lifted his hand to the laces at the front of her dress, but she slapped his hand away. "No," she hissed before she stepped out of his arms. "I told you that I had something to tell you."

Jaime sighed, "Then tell me quickly," he urged her. He moved to the table by the window and poured them both a glass of wine.

Now that he was no longer wrapped around her Cersei was able to look around his chambers. She sniffed in disgust. Jaime could understand why, the inn he was staying in was not the best. But his father had refused to let him stay in the Tower of the Hand. His father had told him that he would be much too busy to have Jaime there, but he knew the truth of it. Tywin Lannister wanted Jaime as far away from Aerys as possible.

And consequently as far away from Cersei as possible.

The chambers were small and dark, but they served their purpose. There was a bed, some wine, and it was far away from prying eyes. A place where he and Cersei could be safe.

Cersei took the offered glass and sat down at the table, arranging her skirts around her like a proper Lady. As if she had not just thrown herself into her brother's arms. "Father has had a raven," she told him as she took a sip of the wine.

Jaime raised his eyebrows at her as he moved toward the window, "I'm sure that he has many ravens," he told his sister. "He is Hand of the King, after all."

"This one came from Lord Hoster Tulley, at Riverrun," Cersei told him as if he had not interrupted her. "It seems that Lord Tulley's eldest daughter Catelyn is betrothed to one of the Stark boys, I assume the eldest. With his eldest daughter preparing to head as far north as possible he wants to send his other daughter south. And west."

Her meaning was not lost on Jaime. "Casterly Rock," he murmured. "He means for her to be Lady of the Rock and marry me."

"Well, I doubt he means for her to marry Tyrion," Cersei sneered. "Not when you're so much more appealing. And so available."

"And Father's agreed to this?" Jaime asked her, raising his glass of wine and draining it in one long pull. This was not how he had planned for the evening to go. This was not what he wanted. He had wanted to spend the night wrapped in his sister's arms not hearing that his father planned to marry him to a Tully girl.

"He has not agreed yet," Cersei told him. "But he is considering it. He says that he has allowed you to be on your own for too long. You're eighteen now and it is time for you to have a wife and learn how to rule over the Rock."

"You're eighteen as well!" Jaime fired back as he poured himself more wine. "I don't see him arranging an unwanted marriage for you."

Cersei sat up a little taller, almost preening, "He means for me to marry a prince," she told him, "and at this moment there are no princes available. But Prince Rhaegar's wife is sickly, there is no doubt that she may die in the birthing bed."

Jaime's fists clenched at the thought. As angry as he was to hear that his father was planning his marriage, he was angrier still at the thought of Cersei with any other man. He did not care that the man was a prince or not, Jaime would slit the throat of any man who tried to touch his sister. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked, his voice almost a moan. "If Father's made his mind up there's no changing it."

"There _is_ ," Cersei insisted. "We just won't be the ones to do it."

"What do you mean?" Jaime asked her, his tone rushed. He was desperate for his sister, but more than that he was desperate for a way out of this. He knew that one day he would have to take a wife, but he wanted it to be his choice. And he did not want the Tully girl.

Cersei smiled at him and took a sip of her wine, "Ser Harlan Grandison died in his sleep last week," she whispered to him as if it were some sort of secret.

Jaime snorted at that, the sigil for House Grandison was a _sleeping lion_. It was fairly appropriate that the old man had died while sleeping. "He was one of the seven," Jaime told her, "one of the Kingsguard."

She nodded, "And he will not settle for six guards for long. He will be looking for a seventh soon. A younger one."

"Of course he will," Jaime agreed, still not seeing the importance. The king had always been slightly mad, but as he grew older he grew worse. People did not like him. He needed as many guards as he could have.

Cersei sighed, as if disappointed that he did not see where she was going with this. "There will be a tournament in a fortnight," she told him. "Lord Crakehall is holding it in honor of Prince Rhaegar." Jaime nodded and fought to keep from rolling his eyes. He knew about the tournament, when he was younger his father had sent him to Crakehall as a ward and a squire. He had, of course, been invited to take part in the tournament but he had not agreed to it. Now that he had fought on a battlefield he was unsure if a tournament would hold the same appeal as it once did.

He waved his hand, signaling to his sister that she should continue. "Several members of the Kingsguard will be at the tourney," Cersei told him. "Men that have the king's ear. Men that could suggest that he trade a sleeping lion for a young, roaring one."

And there it was. The point Cersei had been trying so desperately to get him to grasp. The point that his brain had been fighting so fiercely against. She wanted _him_ to join the Kingsguard. Jaime silently shook his head, still trying to process it all.

Cersei stood from her seat and began to tug at the laces on her dress, an action that would have teased him terribly if his mind were not reeling. "We would no longer be separated," she whispered to him. "You would no longer be at Casterly Rock. We would both be here in King's Landing. Together."

Her words drew him from his internal struggle, "But Casterly Rock," Jaime told her, finally giving voice to what he would be giving up to join the Kingsguard. White cloaks could not hold titles or lands. He would give up his claim to being Lord of Casterly Rock, something that his father had been grooming him for for his entire life. Something he had been looking forward to for his entire life.

Cersei finished with the laces on her dress, "Would you rather have Casterly Rock or me?" she asked him, letting the dress fall to the ground around her feet. Baring herself to him, she was completely naked under the dress.

As much as he wanted Casterly Rock it was hard to think of anything with Cersei standing in front of him, naked and beautiful. Her gold hair shining in the moonlight. "You," he whispered, damning himself as he moved toward her to take her back in his arms.

This time she did not fight him. She welcomed him, giggling even, when he scooped her into his arms and carried her toward his bed. He threw her down, staring intensely at her as he quickly undid the laces of his breeches. In quick, fluid motions he pulled his shirt over his head and pushed his breeches down, crawling over his sister. Both of them naked now.

"We're supposed to be together," she whispered to him, the same whispered promise she always gave him before they were together. Jaime wished that he was as sure of that as she was. It was easy to be when they were both together. It was easy to believe that this was _right_ and not a sin when they were in each other's arms and Cersei's lips were kissing him the way she was now.

But when he was alone and it was quiet. Jaime could not help but wonder if it really was right. Or if he would spend an eternity in one of the Seven Hells for what they did.

Cersei's lips left his and moved down his neck, licking and nipping their way down and she wrapped one of her legs around his hips, bucking her own so that he could feel her wet, warmth against him. He moaned, low in the back of his throat as he felt himself harden almost instantly in response.

"Say it," Cersei ordered. "Say it."

"We are supposed to be together," Jaime whispered back to her.

Cersei nodded and wrapped her other leg around his hips, taking a sharp intake of breath when he thrust himself deep inside her.

She waited a few minutes, her hips bucking up to meet each of his thrusts in their wet, sweaty dance, before she whispered. "Promise me you will go to the tourney."

"I promise," Jaime told her, punctuating each word with a roll of his hips. "I swear it by the Seven, Cersei."

"I'll be there," she promised him. "If you want the attention of the Kingsguard you must win the tournament. You must win it. And when you do, you must crown me the Queen of Love and Beauty."

"But -" Jaime started. It was not unheard of for brother's to crown their own sisters at the end of a tournament, but that was usually reserved for the Targaryens, who also married siblings. Most of the other Great Houses of Westeros did not perform that particular practice.

"It's the only way I'll know that you mean what you say. The only way I will trust that you will join the Kingsguard when the summons comes. You _must_ do it."

Jaime nodded, "I swear it."

-.-.-.-.-

They were singing again. She hated it. There were few times that she hated being the youngest child more than when her brothers got drunk and sang the childhood lullaby that her mother used to sing her. It was one thing when they were drunk inside the hall of Ironrath, it was quite another for them to be drunk and singing it during the day as they road down the King's Road.

But she could not be angry at them. It was these three fools, her older brothers, who had convinced her mother and father to let her go to the tournament with them. If her father had had his way she would still be further north. Instead, she was riding on horseback and they were approaching Moat Cailin. She had never been further south than Winterfell. And now, she was almost to Moat Cailin.

So as much as she hated when her brothers teased her. She would not be angry with them. Not this time.

Her brother Asher was the first to notice her smile, "There it is!" he cheered, breaking away from the song to make his announcement. "All we had to do was move her south and her smile comes out, blooming like a flower under the southern sun."

Her smile quickly disappeared as she pursed her lips, playfully glaring at her brother. They weren't singing the lullaby anymore, but they were still teasing her. Asher was always the worst, at least when it came to her face. Whenever she frowned he would warn her that if she did it for too long her face would become stuck that way.

He was always the first to notice her frowns. But in turn he was always the first to notice her smiles as well.

Her eldest brother Gregor waved his hand dismissively. "Don't get too used to the sun and the warmth, Evelyne," he warned her, as if she needed it. "You'll be back in the grey and cold of the North before you know it."

"And if I like the south?" Evelyne asked, arching her eyebrows. "I know that Father did not want me to go to this tournament for fear that I would find some southern lord who would want to make me his Lady, but what if I do? What if he catches me in a net of promises of sunshine and oceans and flowers and warmth."

Rodrick, the middle of her eldest brothers, chuckled. "No southern man will catch a northern girl with promises of warmth," he promised her. "They don't appreciate it enough."

"Any man that has been north of Moat Cailin appreciates warmth," Asher argued. "Even the southern ones."

Rodrick shook his head, "The North is by far the largest of the Seven Kingdoms," he told them. "It can fit the other six inside it."

"Not that the other six kingdoms care," Evelyne cut in with a smile. "It's too grey and too cold for them."

"Aye," Rodrick agreed. "It's cold and damp, that's how the southerners see the North. But without the cold, a man can't appreciate his hearth. Without the rain, a man can't appreciate the roof over his head. Let the South have its sun, its flowers, and its affectations. We northerners have _home_."

Evelyne smiled at her older brother. As much as she complained about the cold grey of her home, as much as she longed to see more of the sun, she had to admit that the way Rodrick spoke about the North made her a bit homesick. She nudged her horse forward so that she was riding beside him and she reached out, pinching his cheek between her thumb and forefinger, "I believe you're in love, Rodrick," she cooed at him as she let go of his face.

"In love?" Rodrick asked her, raising his eyebrows. "And you say you're not? Would you truly trade the Wolfswood for a southern beach. Would you trade the Ironwood for some southern flower?"

Evelyne thought about it for a moment before she shook her head. She would not, she would never willingly trade her home for any other place in the Seven Kingdoms. Not that she would have much of a choice. She was a daughter after all. And as a daughter it would be her job to marry a man and become Lady of his House. At least her father was kind enough, and stubborn enough, to wait for a northern lord.

Gregor nodded in agreement, "We're Forresters," he reminded his siblings. "What are our words?"

" _Iron from ice,_ " Evelyn answered in time with Asher and Rodrick.

Gregor nodded, " _Iron from ice_ ," he echoed. "The reason northerners are so hard, so strong is because of the harsh environment and unforgiving temperament of the North. An ironwood cannot grow in the sunshine and the warmth and neither can we. Those southerners are soft, and spoiled. It is always their downfall."

"And why Rodrick and Asher will do so well at the tourney," Evelyne agreed with a smile at her two brothers.

Rodrick grinned and reached one of his hands over his shoulder so that he could knock it against his shield that was strapped to his back, "My shield has never failed me yet."

"Nor will it," Evelyne promised him. All Forrester shields were made of ironwood, a wood that was almost as strong as iron. It was said to be impossible to burn. And it was her family who owned and guarded the largest ironwood forest in the Seven Kingdoms. Her brother Rodrick had fought in many tournaments and his shield had never been broken.

Asher chuckled and took another drink of wine in his saddle before he looked at his brothers. "Another round, brothers?" he asked.

Evelyn groaned, "Please don't," she begged. But they would not listen to her. They never did.

" _Little baby, hear my voice,_

 _I'm beside you, Oh Maiden Fair._

 _Our young lady, grow and see,_

 _Your land, your true land here._

 _Sun and moon, guide us,_

 _to the hour of glory and honor._

 _Little baby, our young lady,_

 _Noble Maiden Fair._ "

"Are you quite done?" Evelyne bit out once they finished. She had always loved the song when she was younger, when her mother had sang it to her. Her mother would sing it to her whenever she had a nightmare, to soothe her fears. Her brothers sang it to remind her of her place. She was a maiden of a noble, northern house. Fair and beautiful maybe, but with no real power.

It was her brothers who would go out into the world and make a difference. Evelyne would leave her home and birth children.

...

The ride to Seaguard was a long one. But Evelyne managed to forget all of that when they arrived. She imagined that Seaguard was always busy, but it was positively bustling with people who had arrived for the tournament. There was a sea of pavilions and tents that stretched for miles outside of the city and Crakehall castle. Most of them belonged to the Greater Houses of Westeros, the ones who could afford to send many men and knights to the tournament.

The inns in the city would be full of knights and squires from lesser houses. Being from the North, House Forrester did not have many knights sworn to them. As far as Evelyne knew it was only her brothers Rodrick and Asher who earned their spurs and knighthoods. But her father was not going to have them feel _less_ than any of the other houses. He had sent the four of them with a small compliment of guards, their best horses, and a bright tent that was much too big for only Evelyne and her brothers. Not that any of them would complain.

This was their first southern tournament and they meant to show the southern knights that northmen, particularly Forresters, were as strong as they come.

Evelyne smiled at the sea of banners before them. There were many that she recognized. The silver fist on a scarlet field of House Glover. The four connected silver chains on a red field of House Umber. The Bolton's flayed man. The Stark direwolf. A Karstark's white sun. The black stag on a yellow field of House Baratheon. There weren't many from the North, their banners and sigils were almost drowned out by the southern banners, but there were enough.

When a tournament was thrown in the honor of the crowned prince all the sons of Westeros came to fight. And to prove themselves.

Gregor, who was riding beside Evelyne called her name softly and nodded toward the Stark banner, "I wonder which of the brothers came," her brother said softly.

"Brandon of course," Evelyne answered without much interest. "And perhaps Ned. He's in the Eyrie with Jon Arryn. But Robert Baratheon's stag is here. And where Robert goes, Ned goes."

"He acts as if Robert is his true brother," Asher observed.

"Isn't he?" Evelyne asked, defending the second eldest Stark son. "They've grown up together since boyhood. He's spent more time with Robert Baratheon than Brandon or Benjen Stark."

Rickard grinned at her, "No need to be so defensive, Ev," he told her, his tone light and teasing. "No one was judging your betrothed."

Evelyne rolled her eyes and gently nudged her horse to move faster, away from her brothers. She hated when they did that. She was not betrothed to Ned Stark, not yet at least. Her father had wanted Brandon Stark for her, but he was recently betrothed to Catelyn Tully of the Riverlands. So her father had moved on to the second best thing, Ned. Her father and Lord Stark had not yet come to an agreement, but for almost a year now Evelyne had known that her father wanted her married to the long-faced, solemn Stark.

She did not want to marry him. She barely knew him. But every time she spoke about him her brothers would tease her and imagine her in love with him.

She could hear them calling out for her, but she kept riding faster. She was intent on putting as much distance between them as possible. "Let her go," she heard Gregor command them. "There's little trouble for her to find here."

 _Little trouble_ indeed. The road before her was wide and almost empty. Evelyne leaned closer to her horse, tightening her grip on the reins and urging the horse to go even faster. The sun above her warmed her back and the wind caught and pulled at the horse's mane and her own hair causing it to fly behind her like her own crimson banner.

For a few happy minutes she was able to pretend her brothers weren't behind her. She was able to pretend that her father did not mean to ship her off, and practically sell her to the Starks of Winterfell. She was able to pretend that she was as wild and free as any man.

And then the dog ran onto the road. And spooked her horse.

The black charger reared up on its hind legs, whinnying as it did. Evelyne's eyes widened and on some stupid instinct she loosened her grasp on the reins. She should have held tighter, she knew that, but as the horse reared her hands, moving against her will began to let the reins slip.

She would fall, she knew that. If she were lucky she would be able to get out of the way before her horse backed up and stepped on her. Her eyes closed, squeezing tight and she was not embarrassed by the scream slipped through her lips as she prepared for the fall. But it never came.

"Woah," she heard a man call out somewhere close to her. "Woah! Woah! Woah!"

With her eyes closed she felt him more than she saw him. He moved in, somewhere from her right. Very close. Before she could fall he reached around her, his hand closing one of hers tight around the reins. Then his hand moved away, gripping the reins for himself as he worked to calm the horse.

She took a deep breath as she felt the horse settle underneath her. When she was sure that all four of its hooves were on the ground she finally opened her eyes, turning toward the right so that she could look at her savior.

The first thing she noticed were his eyes. Green. And deep. They were the greenest things she had ever seen. Oval shaped, and almost feline, with flecks of gold in them. The gold in his eyes reflected the gold in his hair. His lips were full, and almost pouty. The corners were currently turned up in a smirk.

Her eyes narrowed at his smirk and she glanced down, pointedly staring at his hand that was still closed around her reins. "Thank you, Ser," she told him, her voice hard like ice as she inclined her head to him.

She had hoped that he would get her point and release the reins, but he did not. "Are you alright?" he asked her.

She bristled slightly at his question. His words were polite enough, but she could hear the smirk in his tone. He was gloating that he had rescued her. Or laughing because he had needed to. Either way she did not like it. "I am quite alright," she told him, her voice still hard. And since he had not let go of her reins yet she jerked them out of his grip.

He raised his eyebrows at her, no doubt surprised by her strength. "You shouldn't be alone," he told her, his hand lifting and reaching out as if he were about to grab her horse's reins again.

She pulled the reins to the left, guiding the horse a step away from the blonde man and his own horse, just out of his reach. "I'm not alone," she told him stubbornly, "I'm with him." She nodded down to the horse.

The smirk melted into a smile. It did not soothe Evelyne's irritation though. She nudged the horse forward, now that there was no dog in the road they could continue their ride. She half expected the man to follow her, but he stayed where he was.

"You know," he called out once she was a few yards in front of him. "It's common practice to thank the man who saves your life."

"I did thank you," Evelyne called back over her shoulder without turning to look at him. "You were probably too busy congratulating yourself to hear it."

His laughter followed her until she had turned the corner on the road. She did not know who he was, no doubt he was in Seaguard for the tournament, but she hoped that she would not see him again. There was something about the man's smug smirk that irritated her.

But when she closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath, all she could think of were the deep green pools of his eyes.

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Author's Note:

First chapter is in the books ... err ... on the internet.  
You know what I mean. I hope you enjoyed it!  
If you did let me know by posting a review in that lovely empty box down there. I've already told you that this story will only be updated once or twice during my writing weeks. BUT, as evidenced in the past, reviews make me update faster.  
So do what you will with that fact.  
See you later!  
Chloe Jane.


	2. Chapter Two: Seven Rides

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

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 _Chapter Two: Seven Rides_

" _You must win"_ that was what Cersei had whispered to him the last time they were together. _You must win_. And he was doing his best, but at the beginning of the three day tournament it had been hard for him to imagine winning. There were far more experienced knights at the tournament, ones that were older and had much more time to hone their skills. On the first day when he had seen the jousting line up he had been worried that he would not make it until the end of the day.

But he had. And he had made it to the end of the second day as well.

And now, here he stood in the late afternoon sunlight, waiting for his final turn in the lists. He had beaten every opponent he had come against. And now he waited, Ser Arthur Dayne would run the lists three times against his opponent and whoever won would take three final rides against Jaime to end the tournament and declare a winner.

Ser Arthur's opponent was a surprise to Jaime. Whenever a tournament occurred there was always a mix of knights he knew and knights who were looking to prove themselves. The strangers, the ones who had not yet made a name for themselves rarely made it past the second day. But here was Ser Rodrick Forrester with his ironwood shield, at the end of the third day, potentially six rides away from being named the champion.

Jaime respected him and his skill. But, on the off chance that he managed to come out victorious against Ser Arthur - a knight of the Kingsguard, Jaime would do his best to make sure that he lost the next.

The riders were getting settled on their horses now, their squires hurrying around them to make sure their shields were strapped on, their wooden lances ready. As Ser Rodrick put his helmet on Jaime was sure that he caught a flash of fear in the young man's face. As well he should have been afraid, Ser Arthur was known as the _Sword of the Morning_ , he was a formidable foe.

Jaime looked away from the riders to the stands. On the first day the stands had been filled with women, boys too young to fight, men too old, and noble men to watch their sons. But as the tourney progressed the stands became filled with riders - knights who had lost already, but wished to see how the tourney ended up. No doubt placing bets on the winners as well.

As his eyes scanned the stands he saw her. It was impossible to miss her, the sunlight glinting almost gold off of her red hair. She was seated not far from his sister, but they were in very different circumstances.

Cersei looked every bit the Lannister Lady. She was dressed in crimson silks with gold thread swirls sewn in. She was laced in tight and her dress was low cut, giving anyone who wished to look an open view of the top of her breasts. Her gold hair was braided and piled and pinned on the top of her head, and a lion pendant hung around her neck. She sat up straight, her spine a rod. She looked beautiful, as always, yet untouchable. She was surrounded by the daughters of the Western Lords, though she seemed to be uninterested in any of their conversations.

The redhead on the other hand wore a dark dress made of green velvet with silver detailing. She, too, was laced in tightly, but she looked more modest, more maidenly with a neckline that stopped at her collarbone. The modest cut of the dress did little, though, to hide the swell of her breasts or her small waist. Her hair was loose, falling well past her shoulders in gentle red waves and loose curls. He remembered when she had ridden past him on that wild horse of hers days earlier, her hair had been loose then as well and had streamed out behind her as if she were on fire. He wondered if she had brushed it since that day, he suspected she hadn't.

She was not surrounded by women. In fact, there was only one woman next to her, a pale little thing with dark hair. The rest of her group were all men. He squinted, trying to make out House sigils. There was a Forrester tree, the Umber's fist, a few Freys with their two towers, a Crakehall boar or two, Robert Baratheon and his stag sat beside the little brunette girl on the redhead's right. And to her left was a long-faced Stark direwolf. Both of the eldest Starks were at the tournament, but _this_ solemn one could only be Eddard, where Robert Baratheon went, so did he.

His sister was dealing with her female companions with a practiced disinterest. But the redhead was smiling and laughing. She leaned over to whisper something in the brunette girl's ear and both girls began to giggle. The men around her seemed to be competing for her attention harder than they had at the tournament. She was not _too_ friendly with the men, but she looked at them when they spoke to her with such earnest eyes that he was sure that each man believed her in love with only him.

He had asked around about her after he had saved her from falling from his horse. He did not recognize her so she could not have been introduced at court. But he could not believe that any House would have kept such a beauty away. He would have asked her himself, but in a turn of events that was entirely foreign to him she had seemed to have no interest in him. He could not think of a time when a maiden had been in such a hurry to get away from him.

None of the southern knights or lords had known who she was. Several had seen her moving throughout the camp set up outside of Seaguard and at the tournament, but no one knew her name. She had remained a mystery. One that Jaime was determined to discover before the end of the tournament. She was not nearly as beautiful as Cersei, but the girl _was_ intriguing. And nothing bothered Jaime more than _not knowing_.

Tournaments were funny things. Up until the last round in the lists knights would give women favors, usually flowers. During the last round, between the champion and whoever would come in second place the knight would choose a woman and she would give him _her_ favor, usually a scrap of fabric tied around the tip of his lance. And then once the winner was named _he_ would crown a woman the Queen of Love and Beauty. It was usually, but not always, the woman whose favor had helped him win.

Men usually gave their favors to their wives, or their sisters, or their betrothed, or a woman they _wished_ to marry. As a knight of the Kingsguard, Ser Arthur Dayne had no such woman to give his favor to. For each joust he had ridden in he had given his flowers - white roses - to the princess, Prince Rhaegar's wife, Elia, to bring both the prince and the princess honor. This time was no different.

Ser Rodrick had been varying with whom he bestowed his favors on. There were close to ten women over the last three days who had been given his blue winter rose. For this round he rode his horse over to the redhead, presenting the blue flower to her. Jaime moved along the edge of the list, coming to stand near Cersei's seat as the mystery woman took Ser Rodrick's rose with an indulgent smile and a playful roll of her eyes. As soon as the Forrester knight had ridden away she handed the flower to the girl next to her. "Who is she?" he asked, his voice full of practiced disinterest as he felt more than heard Cersei stand and move down to the bottom of the stands so that she was standing behind him.

"Who?" Cersei asked, jealousy coloring her tone. She had his heart, surely she knew that, but she was still jealous. Jaime smirked at her jealousy. There was no need for it. Once the mystery of the girl was solved she would quickly become uninteresting.

"The red haired wench," he told her, watching the girl in question out of the corner of his eye.

Cersei huffed out a sigh, "The Lady Evelyne Forrester," she told him, Jaime did not have to turn to look at his sister to know that she was rolling her eyes. Cersei had always liked to be the center of attention. _Everyone's_ attention, not only Jaime's. He knew that it bothered her that the girl was getting so much attention from men - men who might have been giving Cersei that attention if Evelyne weren't there.

"She's new," Jaime commented, hoping that his disinterested tone would soothe Cersei's wrath.

"Very," Cersei told him. "She has never been presented at court. Lord Thorren Forrester would much prefer to keep his daughter hidden up north than have her travel south. This is her first time south of the Wolfswood." Jaime chuckled, he was sure that Cersei, like Lord Thorren, would have much preferred that Evelyne Forrester had stayed at home too. "She doesn't even know how to behave," Cersei hissed. "Look at her."

With his sister's permission Jaime turned his head to study the girl. Jon Umber must have just told her a joke because she was laughing, her head thrown back, a pink blush coloring her cheeks. If Jaime knew anything about Jon Umber he knew that the blush was well-deserved. Whatever the joke had been, he was sure that it _touched_ on improper. "They don't seem to mind," he murmured as he turned back toward the lists.

"She'll lose her newness soon enough," Cersei promised, though he had the feeling she was speaking to herself more than him. "Then they'll see she's not nearly as interesting as they think."

Jaime raised his eyebrows, he was not so sure of that. He could still remember the determined look on her face when he had rescued her. She did not know him, but she knew that she did not want to be rescued by him. He remembered how her eyes had narrowed as she glared down at his hand on her horse's reins. He remembered her biting sarcasm as she had called out to him over her shoulder, _You were probably too busy congratulating yourself to hear_.

She had a fire and a spirit in her that he had never seen in a woman. Not even in Cersei if he were being honest. He did not know much about Evelyne Forrester, save her name, but he was sure that getting to know her would not make her any _less_ interesting. If anything it would only serve to make her more intriguing.

But he would never tell his sister that.

And Ser Rodrick and Ser Arthur were about to have their first ride in the lists.

With his left eye he watched the riders, looking for weaknesses. He would need to be able to beat each of them to be named the champion of the tournament. But with his right eye he watched the girl.

As her brother prepared to ride she shushed anyone who made an attempt to speak to her. She sat up a little straighter, stretching her neck so that she could see better. Her blue eyes staring intently at the field in front of her. Her right hand was on the other woman's lap, he watched as it closed into a nervous fist as the men started to ride. The brunette smiled sweetly at her friend before she picked up her hand, smoothing the fingers back to straight before she held it tightly between both of her own hands.

He smirked when a Frey turned and saw the women holding hands. He was sitting to her left, one row in front of her. He reached out and took a hold of the Forrester girl's left hand.

If he hadn't been watching her, if he hadn't already known what disgust looked like on the redhead's face he might have missed it flashing in her eyes. But he did not miss the look. And he did not miss the way she quickly withdrew her hand from his and placed it on top of the brunette woman's so that they were holding each other's hands. He also did not miss the quick look she shot at Ned Stark, as if wondering if he had noticed the Frey knight's actions.

He smirked again, so the girl liked Stark. It was good that she was from the North and used to the cold then, because that was all she would get from solemn Eddard Stark.

-.-.-.-.-

She had heard stories and songs of knights fighting in tourneys. And she had seen her brothers practicing in the tilt yard. But nothing had prepared her for an actual tournament. One the first day the lists had looked perfect, but by now the hooves of the warhorses had pounded them down until the field was a ragged wasteland of torn earth. The smell of the horses was strong, even from where she sat in the stands and mixed with the smell of sweaty men and ale it was a smell that she would rather not ever smell again. By the end of the third day there were more broken and splintered lances than whole ones. She and Lyanna had cried out in unison several times when riders clashed together or men fell from their horses.

She knew their cries were unladylike. She could tell from the glares they received from the group of women to their left. Proper ladies sat in the stands and clapped politely. They did not scream or cry out. They did not laugh too loudly. They did not stand when they did not have a good view of the action below them. But this was their first tourney, and Evelyne and Lyanna had done all of those things, much to the enjoyment of the men that now sat around them. Robert Baratheon had laughed loudly at them the day before and told them it was nice to see some women, whether northern or southern, who seemed to have blood running through their veins.

And _blood_. There had been so much blood during the jousting. Splintered lances burying themselves inside men's arms or stomachs. There had been a rather sobering moment the first day when a broken lance was shoved under a man's helm and straight through his neck. He had bled out before he even fell from his horse. His mother and sister had cried out then, tears streaming down their faces. Evelyne had looked around, expecting the tournament to be called off at that point, but no one else seemed concerned.

Money changed hands as there was a clear loser in that round. The mother and sister were quickly escorted from the stands. The dead man and his horse pulled out of the lists. Some sawdust was thrown down to soak up the blood. And the knights were ready to ride again.

She would never understand men and their bloodlust. Because that was what this was. The Seven Kingdoms were at peace. And during times of peace, men played at war.

Rodrick had surprised her though. He was doing remarkably well. She had not dared to hope it at the beginning, but now it seemed that he might have a chance of winning. He would ride against Ser Arthur Dayne and then if he won he would ride against the young knight in the golden armor with a lion's head helm. _Jaime Lannister_ they called him. And they all spoke his name as if he were some sort of God. Every time she saw him he had his helm on, but Robert had pointed out his twin sister to her. A beautiful blonde woman who looked very familiar though Evelyne was sure they had never met.

She caught herself wondering if he was as beautiful as his sister. But she quickly shook her head, banishing that thought. It did not matter to her if he were the most beautiful man in the world, it was not for _her_ to judge or wonder about him. Not when her potential betrothed, Ned Stark, was sitting right next to her.

He had been distant with her, but kind. Though she would never ask him if he knew that their fathers were discussing a betrothal she was sure that he knew. He sat next to her from the first day of the tourney. He answered her questions patiently and told her what he knew of the knights. When Robert had finally convinced him to place a bet on one of the jousts Ned had smiled at her and asked her to choose who he bet on.

He had called her _good luck_ when she choose him the winner.

It wasn't the romance they sang about in the songs of knights and their maidens. It wasn't the passion that shone in Robert Baratheon's eyes when he looked at Lyanna. It was quiet. A kindness and respect that she was sure they could build a life on, even if love never flowered between them.

He chuckled at her now, as she sat, tense, holding tight to Lyanna's hand as they watched her brother and Ser Arthur ride the last of the three rides in this round. Ser Arthur's lance had broken on Rodrick's shield with the first ride. And Rodrick had lost his lance on the second. This last ride would determine the winner.

She stood up slightly, not quite straight. Her knees were still bent, her bottom hovered a few inches above her seat. Her brother was determined to win this tournament, to make a name for himself. But so many men had been determined to do the same thing and now they were either beaten or dead.

She felt someone's hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back down and into her seat. She turned and saw Ned's kind grey eyes watching her. "He won't die," he promised her, as if he knew the outcome of the joust before it happened.

She nodded, trusting him, before she turned back to the field. She waited with wide eyes and bated breath as she watched the two knights ride into each other. The lances hit first, both striking at the other, both splintering. Rodrick's got the worst of the blow. Most of his lance had broken off in an explosion of wood splinters. Ser Arthur still had much of a working lance. Before they had finished riding past each other he jabbed the broken lance at Rodrick again, catching the elbow of his shield arm and knocking him off balance.

Rodrick fell off his horse.

Evelyne dropped Lyanna's hand and ignoring the hand Ned still had on her shoulder she stood up, her spine straight as a rod. Her shoulders tense, her hands fisted, her jaw clenched. She wanted to scream but she would not dishonor her family or her brother in that manner. So instead she waited, still as a statue, praying silently to the Old Gods that he would stand up.

He took his time. He laid on the ground, on his stomach and did not move. Ser Arthur climbed off his horse and removed his helm. She watched him as he moved on foot across the list, slowly advancing on her brother. When he knelt beside him she was sure that he was going to announce that he was dead. But instead the Kingsguard knight smiled and held out a hand, chuckling as he pulled Rodrick to his feet.

"Thank the Gods," Evelyne sighed out as her brother let go of Ser Arthur's hand, stumbling a bit, but standing on his own. Robert was laughing at her when she took her seat again but Ned did not. She turned to him once she was seated, "Thank you," she told him, "you are much kinder than your friend."

Ned lifted one of his shoulders in a gentle shrug, "I would never fault you for fearing for your family, my Lady," he told her, his grey eyes leaving her face and falling on his sister Lyanna.

 _No_ , Evelyne thought as she watched Rodrick walk off the lists with Ser Arthur's arm wrapped around his shoulders for support. _I suppose not_.

It took a few minutes to ready the final two riders. Ser Jaime Lannister and Ser Arthur Dayne. Ser Jaime was ready first, his lion's head helm already on when he rode toward the stands, stopping his destrier in front of the group of women surrounding his sister and extending his lance to her. Patiently waiting as the blonde woman stood and moved toward the bottom of the stands so that she could tie a strand of crimson silk around the end of the lance, watching her brother while she did it and smiling as she wished him well.

"The Lannisters and their crimson," Evelyne heard one of the Crakehall knights sigh. "I've never seen a House more proud of itself than House Lannister."

Lyanna smiled, reaching one of her hands up to catch a strand of Evelyne's red hair between her fingers. "Perhaps that is why Ser Jaime has been watching Evelyne since the beginning of the tournament. Her hair probably reminds him of home."

Evelyne rolled her eyes, she had not noticed the golden knight watching her and she was sure that he hadn't. "Don't make up stories," Evelyne hissed at her friend as they watched Ser Arthur ride to the princess Elia to ask for her favor. "You speak with so much conviction that someone might believe you."

Ser Arthur and Ser Jaime seemed easily matched. In the last match of the day they got more than three rides in the list because for the first four rides neither knight seemed to do any damage to the other. Evelyne almost would have yawned if she were not so convinced that the violence and the blood _would_ come, if only a bit later.

On the fifth ride Ser Arthur's lance splintered nearly half its length, though it stayed mostly intact.

On the sixth ride his splintered lance shattered Ser Jaime's shield.

As he prepared for the seventh ride Evelyne was sure that the golden knight would have his squire bring him a new shield. But instead the proud lion unbuckled his shield and let it drop to the dirt beside his horse. He did not ask for a new one.

"I think he's very brave," she heard Lyanna whisper as he took his lance back from his squire, prepared to ride without a shield.

"I think he's a fool," Evelyne whispered back.

On the seventh ride, without his shield, Jaime Lannister knocked Ser Arthur's lance from his hands.

The men in the stands roared their approval. The ladies clapped politely. But everyone, including the knights in the lists turned toward the center of the stands where Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia sat under a canopy. Ser Arthur removed his helm, Ser Jaime kept his in place, but both jumped from their horses and bowed low when Prince Rhaegar stood from his seat.

"Well fought," Prince Rhaegar called down on them as their squires ran into the lists to take their lances away. "I believe that the winner's purse belongs to Ser Jaime Lannister." Evelyne turned toward the group of women to her left, noticing the look of complete and utter pride on his twin sister's face. She turned back to watch as Ser Jaime rode toward the prince and princess.

Prince Rhaegar handed him his winnings, a purse of gold dragons.

"Not that the Lannisters need anymore," she heard Robert mutter, "the Lannisters shit gold from what I hear."

Princess Elia handed him a crown of flowers so that he might give it to the most beautiful woman in the stands and name her the Queen of Love and Beauty.

"Who do you think he will crown?" Lyanna asked, her voice an excited whisper.

"His sister," one of the Crakehall knights answered her. "Lady Cersei Lannister."

"No," Evelyne responded, shaking her head as she watched the golden knight, still wearing his helm, as he rode around the lists, as if struggling to decide who he would pick. "Surely he won't crown his own _sister_."

"He will," Robert told her, agreeing with the Crakehall man. "There's nothing a lion loves more than himself. And since Jaime Lannister can't crown himself, he'll choose the next best thing. Mark me."

* * *

Author's Note:

Boom! Another chapter.  
I hope that I didn't make you guys wait too long for it! And I hope that you enjoyed it.  
If you did you should drop down to that beautiful empty box down there and write a review. As you know more reviews might mean that the next chapter comes out sooner.  
(And in case you're wondering ... they meet in the next chapter)  
HUGE thanks to those of you who reviewed the first chapter. This update is for you!

 _jasdeepmehndiratta_ : Thank you for your review! I'm glad that you enjoyed the first chapter and that you like it even more than my other story. That's a huge compliment. I hope that you enjoyed this one as well!

 _Arianna Le Fay_ : The fire in the title is referring to Evelyne's hair. It's as red as flames. This story is about her and Jaime. I would love to write a story about Rhaegar, but I wouldn't give him an OC. As far as I'm concerned Rhaegar belongs with Lyanna. I wouldn't touch that.

 _Man_ : No problem friend! I am more than willing to update for you! I hope you enjoyed the second chapter!

 _Melmela_ : Yay! I'm glad you found it. Don't worry, no prayers needed. This one is most definitely a Jaime story. There's going to be some touches of Cersei, but at the end ... it's Jaime and Evelyne the whole way. I'm glad that you enjoyed the first chapter and that the characters seem real to you. I always get really nervous when I first post a story that I'm going to screw something up so it's good to know that I haven't done that yet. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well!

That's all for now folks! I'll see you back here soon.  
Chloe Jane.


	3. Chapter Three: The Queen of Love

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

 _Chapter Three: The Queen of Love and Beauty_

 _You must crown me the Queen of Love and Beauty_. That had been Cersei's second command. He had followed through on her first command, he had won the tournament as she asked. Now she would want him to name her, in front of all these spectators as the most beautiful woman there. She had told him that it was because that was the only way that she would know that he truly meant it when he promised her that he would join the Kingsguard. But he knew the truth of it. She wanted him to make a public declaration that he found no woman as beautiful as his sister.

He turned toward her, looking at her. She was beautiful. There was no denying that. Perhaps she was the most beautiful woman there. And they made a wonderful pair with their golden hair and matching eyes. Almost _too_ perfect together. But now her green eyes were narrowed as she watched him, her lips pursed. She looked as though she was going to scold him for taking his time. His eyes darted to his sister's right, catching sight of something that was an even deeper red than his sister's silk dress - _Evelyne Forrester_. If his sister was going to scold him he might as well have a bit of fun with it.

Looking straight ahead, not at Cersei, he rode past his sister and brought his horse to a halt in front of Evelyne and her court of hangers on. As he got closer to her he realized that he had been wrong when he called her a redhead. That was not the word for her hair color. It was redder than red. It was _crimson_. If she were wearing a gold dress she would look as much like a Lannister as his sister. She did not stand when he approached her, she did not look excited. Instead she stared at him, raising a delicate eyebrow, silently asking him why he was there.

He raised the visor on his helm, smiling though she would not see it, all she would be able to see were his eyes. He wondered if she would recognize them. "Lady Evelyne," he called out to her. "Would you do me the honor?"

She was staring at his eyes, her brow furrowed in concentration, did she not know who he was? Surely she would his eyes, his sister had always told him they were his most striking feature. She pursed her lips for a moment and tilted her head to the side, studying him still. "Take off your helm," she ordered him. "Then I shall decide."

He chuckled, this girl did have some fire to her. The girl beside her looked almost scandalized at her statement, but Evelyne remained resolutely in her seat. He placed the flower crown on his lap and reached both hands up so that he could remove his helm. He made a point not to look at her as he shook his golden hair out, giving her a moment to decide on him first.

When he looked at her the right corner of her mouth had turned up into an _almost_ smile. "So it's you," she said softly, almost a whisper. She still did not move from her seat.

"Lady Evelyne," Jaime asked her again, not used to having to ask twice for anything. "Will you do me the honor?"

She looked at the brunette beside her and the girl urged her to stand up. Still she did not. It was not until the knight with the Forrester ironwood on his doublet hissed, " _Ev_ ," before she stood up and slowly made her way down to the bottom of the stands.

Had he been standing on the ground she would have been taller than him. But from horseback they were close to the same height. He smirked at her, enjoying how much she clearly did not want to be standing in front of him. He inclined his head, "I am at your service, my Lady," he told her before he lifted his head. He took the crown of flowers in both his hands and leaned closer to her so that he could crown her with them.

When she spoke he could tell it was because courtesy demanded it and not because she wished to, "You were very gallant, Ser Jaime," she told him, a glint in her blue eyes. "And you fought so bravely, not many men would have taken such a foolish gamble as to ride without a shield."

And there it was. A Lady's courtesy would not allow her to call him stupid. But she thought him a fool, and a show off most like. She did not trust his knightly gallantry and she did not want to be any nearer to him today as she had the day he saved her on the road. But she would stand in front of him and allow him to crown her and smile because that was what was expected of her. He reached out and took her hand in his, lifting it to his lips so that he could press a kiss to the back of it.

He left his lips there for a beat too long. He opened his eyes, smirking against her sun-warmed skin when he looked up to see her blue eyes locked on him. "You are too kind, my Lady," he told her once he had lifted his lips, though he still kept a hold of her hand. "Surely you know, it was for you."

He did not mean it, but that was the game that knights and ladies played. Everyone who had witnessed it would go home and tell stories of the gallant Ser Jaime Lannister and the flame-headed maiden who had caught his heart at a tourney. Perhaps he would tell his brother about it, Tyrion had a bit of a poet's mind. He could write a song about it. She looked at him for a moment longer and then just as she had pulled her reins out of his grasp the first day he had seen her she pulled her hand from his grasp now.

She could have passed it off as it simply being the end of their conversation if she had not very deliberately wiped the back of her hand against her skirts as if disgusted by the kiss he had placed on it. He heard her brother sigh and the brunette beside her gasp. Surely they knew enough of the girl to expect this behavior. Jaime, himself, could not say that it surprised him.

He chuckled and shook his head, dropping his voice lower so that only she would be able to hear him, "You are a little minx aren't you?" he asked her.

She smiled at him this time, as if pleased that he had realized that he would get no more from her and then she sank into a low and graceful curtsy. When she rose she gave him a nod and then she turned. He expected her to return to her seat, but instead she turned toward the stairs at the end of the stands and began to make her way down them. She left the stands and the crowd of whispering onlookers as quickly as she could.

Jaime watched after her for a moment before he turned to her brother, he did not know the man's name but it did not matter. "Your sister's a stubborn one," he told the man with a chuckle. "As fiery as her hair I would imagine."

...

He knew Cersei would be angry with him. That she would rail against him and throw things at him. He was supposed to win the tournament and basically declare his love for her by naming her the Queen of Love and Beauty. And instead he had crowned another girl. One who clearly threatened her. She wouldn't understand it, but he had crowned the girl for Cersei. He _wanted_ her angry. His sister was always at her most beautiful, and the most tempting when she was angry at him. She was angry at him after he crowned Lady Evelyne, but she would be angrier still once Jaime finally stopped avoiding her.

He had stayed for a while with other knights, smiling at their praise. He had been most grateful when Ser Arthur himself had congratulated him on his win. But now he craved a bit of peace and silence. He had made some hurried excuses and escaped to Lord Crakehall's Godswood. It was a small, pathetic little thing really. And for a moment he found himself jealous of those northern families, the ones that had Godswoods so large that one could get lost in them.

His jealousy did not last long though, no longer than it took him to round a corner on the path and come upon none other than his Queen of Love and Beauty herself.

She was seated on a bench underneath a willow tree. She had already taken her flower crown off her head, it sat in her lap as she methodically plucked petals off of the flowers and dropped them onto the ground.

"I understand that this is your first tourney," he called out to her, smirking when she jumped in surprise at the sound of his voice. "But I believe that you're supposed to keep that."

She raised her eyebrows at him, "Have a lot of experience being the Queen do you?" she asked him, smirking as she very deliberately plucked another petal and dropped it.

"No," he told her, ignoring her jest. "But Lord Crakehall will hold a feast in our honor in two days time and you, my Lady, are supposed to wear that."

"In our honor?" she asked him, surprised.

 _Gods_ , he thought, _Cersei was right. She is new. She's practically green._ Any girl in the south would have understood the way it would go. All the most important knights and lords and ladies from the tournament would be invited to the feast. And the head table Rhaegar and Elia would sit in the center. Lord and Lady Crakehall would sit to the right of the prince. And Jaime and Evelyne would sit to left of Elia.

She shook her head as if she didn't believe him, "I did nothing to deserve an honor," she told him as if she could persuade him to let her skip the feast.

"You inspired my victory, My Lady," he teased her as he moved closer to her bench.

"I heard your _sister_ inspired your victory," she shot back. Jaime paused mid-step, his throat tightening. He wondered how she could have known. He wondered if he would have to kill her here in the Godswood to keep her silence. His hand had fallen to the handle of his sword when she spoke again. "Lord Robert said there was nothing a lion loves better than himself. Your sister is your twin and she did give you her favor. I imagine you were more inspired by bringing glory to House Lannister than you were by some stranger you did not know."

He chuckled as he dropped his hand from his sword. He would not have to kill her. She knew nothing. "I was inspired by bringing glory to House Lannister," he told her, walking closer to her still. She stiffened as he moved closer and he smirked. He quite liked making her feel uncomfortable. "But it was your hair stirring in the wind that led me to that inspiration."

She stopped picking at the flowers so that she could reach up and run her fingers through her hair as if she could hide it from him. "Pity I wasn't wearing gold," she sniffed at him as she stood up from the bench and moved to walk away from him.

"Allow me to accompany you, Lady Evelyne?" he asked her, walking quickly to her side.

She turned to look at him, her eyebrows raised, "Haven't I done enough to make you understand that I am not interested in your company?" she asked him.

He chuckled and held his arm out to her. When she did not immediately place her hand on his offered arm he sighed and reached out and placed it there for her. "You will soon find out that I am a stubborn sort," he told her as he started to lead her forward. "You shall have to tell me at least once more."

She looked at him and he half expected her to tell him then and there that she wanted him to leave her alone. But instead she sighed and lifted her right hand so that she could drop her half ruined flower crown back onto her red curls. "Very well, Ser Jaime," she told him. "If you are so set on forcing your company upon me you might as well be useful."

"And how can I be of service to you, my Lady?" Jaime asked her, dropping his tone to a seductive whisper and throwing in a wink for good measure.

She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, clearly annoyed with him. But when she opened her eyes they were sparkling with excitement, "What was it like to fight against the Sword of the Morning?" she asked him.

-.-.-.-.-

The smile that spread across his face at her question almost took her breath away. It was so different from the self-satisfied smirk he had worn the day they met on the road and from the gloating smile he had on his face after winning the tournament. This one was bright and excited. He had not only enjoyed his time in the lists against Ser Arthur Dayne, but he would treasure the memory. She didn't even know the knight walking beside her but even _she_ could tell that.

"There's nothing like it," he told her, forgetting his courtesies - forgetting to call her _my Lady_. "Truly. To be on your horse at one end of the list knowing that if something went wrong you would die," he cut himself off with a shake of his head. "I have never felt more alive than I do when I have a sword in my hand."

"But you had a lance," Evelyne pointed out. "Not quite the same thing."

"No," Jaime agreed with her. "It's playing at war instead of fighting one." Evelyne smiled and ducked her head, he was echoing her thoughts from the stands and he did not even realize it. "But I have fought in a battle with Ser Arthur," Jaime told her. "So I suppose I have the right to say that it made me feel alive."

Her eyes snapped back up to his face, "You've been to battle against him?" she asked.

"Not against him," he told her, shaking his head. " _For_ him. _With_ him. He knighted me himself after we defeated the Kingswood Brotherhood." He turned toward her, smiling down at her. "You seem mighty interested in Ser Arthur," he told her, his tone teasing, "should I assume that you would have rathered that he won the tournament?"

Evelyne smile up at him and shook her head, "Then how would I have gotten this beautiful crown?" she asked him, using her free hand to gesture to her flower crown. "I've _always_ wanted to be named Queen of Love and Beauty."

"Indeed," he chuckled. She had made it quite clear that being crowned, especially by him, was the last thing she had wanted.

She shrugged her shoulders, "There's just not a lot of knights in the North," she told him. "There's not a lot of septs, you know? My brothers, but this was their first tournament. I've grown up on the few stories of knights that have reached Ironrath. The Sword of the Morning was always my favorite. They say that _Dawn_ was forged from the heart of a fallen star."

Jaime nodded, no doubt he had the story plenty of times. "He used it to kill the Smiling Knight," he told her. She opened her mouth to ask about that, but he must have read her mind because he started talking before she could even ask. "He was a madman," he told her. "cruelty and chivalry all jumbled up together, but he did not know the meaning of fear. Even up until the last moment."

His eyes were distant, as if he was back in the Kingswood, fighting the battle anew. "I crossed swords with him," he told her, though he did not look at her. She wondered if he was even talking to her anymore or if he was talking to himself now. "Not for very long, I was a squire then and every second I was sure that he might kill me. But I held him off. It was probably that that made Ser Arthur knight me more than anything else. When Ser Arthur fought him it was nothing like my fight, it was extended and long. It was beautiful even. They were rather evenly matched. At one point the Smiling Knight's sword broke."

"I've heard of that," Evelyne breathed quietly. "Ser Arthur refused to fight him until he had been given a fresh sword."

Jaime nodded, "Everyone says that Ser Arthur is the most chivalrous knight in the Seven Kingdoms. But it was not chivalry that stilled his sword that afternoon. He wanted victory, and it would not be a clean one if he killed a man with a broken sword. When they resumed their fight the Smiling Knight told him that it was _Dawn_ that he really wanted."

" _Then you shall have it,_ " Evelyne told him.

Jaime nodded, "That's what Ser Arthur told him before he ran his sword through his stomach. He was so mad. He smiled, even with his last breath."

They were silent for a few minutes as they walked. The Godswood was small here, they had already reached the center. Soon they would turn and Jaime would be obliged to bring her back toward the entrance. She wondered if it was that thought that stilled his feet for a moment. "You know more about knights and battles than any woman I've met," Jaime admitted to her. "Most women only want to about knights and their maidens, not their fights."

She shrugged her shoulders gently, "Winters are long and harsh at Ironrath," she told him. "There's not much entertainment. I've always been jealous of all the knightly entertainment your lot gets."

"Then your father should have sent you south," Jaime told her, he still had not begun to guide them out of the Godswood. "You should have been introduced to the court."

"Mother might not have minded," Evelyne told him, finally pulling him into walking again. "But my father never would have sent me there."

"My father gave me the understanding that daughters were of very little use," Jaime told her, he did not seem to realize how much his words might have hurt her. "Meant for nothing more than marriage. Does he not want you to marry a southern lord?"

"That's very forward of you," Evelyne told him instead of answering his question.

He chuckled, "And you're blushing," he pointed out. His eyes did not leave her face, "No," he said after a minute of studying her, "I imagine your father would want to keep you close. A beauty like you could find trouble in the capitol."

"Your sister is in the capitol," Evelyne fired back. "And she is more beautiful by half."

"To some," Jaime agreed with her.

Her blush deepened, she could feel it warming her cheeks and her neck. She wondered if maybe he was speaking of himself. Robert had been so sure that he would crown his sister after all, and instead he had picked her.

"He'll have some northern lord's son picked out for you," Jaime continued, as if he hadn't said anything. "Let me guess, Jon Umber?"

Without thinking Evelyne gasped, "No," she told him, shaking her head quickly. "He's so large. I don't know how -" she stopped. He was laughing at her. She fought the urge to duck her head and hide her face from him. What she had said was inappropriate, ladies did not talk that way about men. But it was true. And Jaime Lannister had no right to laugh at her about it.

"So not an Umber," he chuckled. "You don't seem the type to agree to a Bolton match."

"That's the beauty of daughters," Evelyne told him, walking faster. Once they left the Godswood she would have an excuse to leave him. He smirked at her, as if he could read her thoughts. "My father does not have to ask my opinion."

Jaime studied her for a moment, "But he might?" he asked.

Evelyne glanced at him sideways and nodded slightly, "He might."

"So not a Bolton," he told her.

"Not a Bolton," she agreed.

"Perhaps a Stark?" he asked. His voice was nonchalant enough, but his green eyes were narrowed in suspicion. She wondered if Lyanna had been right when she said that he watched her during the tournament. She wondered if he had seen her sitting next to Ned Stark. He chuckled, "Your blush gives you away, my Lady," he told her.

"And your questions give you away," she told him, dropping her hand from her arm. She was angry at him again. Upset that this smug stranger could read her so easily. Irritated that he presumed to know her even though they had only spoken this one time. "You are no true knight, _Ser_."

He stopped walking, and for some reason, so did she. "Perhaps not," he told her with a nod. "But I am a _true_ man. I have blood running through my veins, warm and real. And much better than the ice water running through Ned Stark's veins."

Evelyne lifted her head to glare at him. "That's what you southerners will never understand," she told him. "We all have that ice in our veins. Even Eddard Stark. Even me."

"And you think being cold and keeping your distance makes you strong?" Jaime asked her, looking down at her with his eyebrows raised. "Walls are wonderful, but they're made to be knocked down, Evelyne."

 _Let him try_ , Evelyne thought to herself. If he wanted to see walls she would show him walls. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, "Perhaps they are, _Jaime_ ," she told him. If he was going to use her name than she would use his. She wasn't afraid of impropriety. And she wasn't afraid of him. And she meant to show that to him. "But not by the likes of you."

He chuckled at her, his green eyes gleaming with some private joke. "You are an interesting woman, Lady Evelyne," he admitted her. "Mores the pity for my sister. She was so hoping that you would be proper and boring." He shook his head, "I find that I am more intrigued by you now than I was when we first met."

"Mores the pity for you then," Evelyne told him, "Because I know all I need to know about you. And I do not like any of it?"

"Truly?" he laughed. "I can't even ply you with more stories about the Kingswood Brotherhood?" She hesitated, not for long, but for long enough that he knew he had her. If he had more stories she would want to hear them. He shook his head at her, smirking. "I will see you at the feast, my Lady," he told her.

He took her hand in his and bowed low over it, pressing a kiss against the back of it. "I shall leave you now," he told her after he had dropped her hand. "Give you more time to build your walls a little higher."

Evelyne watched him go with a sigh of disappointment. _Not because he had left her_ she told herself. But because she had played into his game. The man was handsome, there was no need to deny that. He knew it. She knew it. Any woman who saw him knew it. And he was a skilled knight. But he fed off of attention. And she had given it to him. And perhaps worse she would do it again. She would go to the feast. And he would needle her and tease her until she responded.

And he would win again.

She shook her head. _No_. She would go to the feast and she would be intriguing and interesting and beautiful. And she would give her attention to everyone, save Jaime Lannister.

At the feast, she would win.

* * *

Author's Note:

Hello there friends! I woke up early to write this chapter for you. I was not planning on updating this story again this week, but your reviews spoke to me.  
So here I am, posting from Toronto. And I hope it was worth it.  
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
If you did, let me know. It's as simple as a few words in that empty box down there.  
Go on. You know you want to.  
As always, HUGE thanks to the review rockstars from the last chapter. This update really is for you guys!

 _Starrside_ : Yay! I'm glad that you loved the update and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well.

 _man_ : Thank you, I'm glad that it's different from the others. And thank you for saying that it's "beautifully written" that means more than you know. I hope this chapter lived up to the high standard I seem to have set for myself.

 _ram_ : 4 am? That's some dedication. I'm glad that you loved the previous chapters and I hope that this one was just as good.

 _jaimefan_ : He didn't crown Cersei. Though she's going to be pissed at him. (But that's for the next chapter.) As for Jaime joining the Kingsguard ... hmmm. We will have to see.

 _HPuni101_ : Hello friend from my other story! I'm so glad that you're enjoying this one too!

 _Melmela_ : Yes, this story promises good things. (Or at least I hope it does.) I'm glad that you liked the last chapter and I hope that you enjoyed this one as well.

 _tom_ : words can't describe how much I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!

 _jd_ : Here you go, dear! Another update. I hope I didn't make you wait too long. And I hope it was worth the wait!

So for those of you who do not read my other story, _Hell Hath No Fury_ I will warn you. I work every other week. My schedule is made of twelve hour shifts, seven days on and then seven days off. Clearly this week was my off week so I was able to write and post. Next week is my on week. I tend not to post updates on my on weeks because by the time I get home all I want to do is cuddle up with my husband and sleep.  
So I won't be around next week. But I will be back the week after.  
I won't abandon you!  
See you soon,  
Chloe Jane.


	4. Chapter Four: Artists, Singers, Dancers

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

My name is Chloe Jane and I thought sex scenes were hard. But then I wrote one about a brother and a sister. It felt icky. But here it is.

* * *

 _Chapter Four: Artists, Singers, Dancers, and Poets_

"You crowned her!" Cersei spat at him when she snuck into his pavilion later that evening. It was dark, no one would have recognized her but she was still dressed in a dress of rough spun wool and a cloak covered her golden hair, hiding it from his view. "You swore to me that you would crown _me_ the Queen of Love and Beauty. You swore to me and you chose another."

Jaime looked up at her from his seat by the fire. "Tell me, sister, does it upset you more that I crowned someone who was not you? Or that I crowned _her_ specifically?"

Cersei's eyes narrowed into a glare, "I hope that she's worth it," she hissed at him. "Your Lady Forrester."

Jaime rolled his eyes, he pretended to be bored with the conversation. Though in truth he had never found his sister more appealing than she was right now with her cheeks red from anger, her eyes angry and filled with fire. "I believe, as is the custom, her mother is _Lady Forrester_. She would simply be _Lady Evelyne_."

" _Lady Evelyne_ ," Cersei sneered, moving around him so that she could pour herself a cup of wine. "The _beautiful_ Lady Evelyne. The _mysterious_ Lady Evelyne. The _interesting_ Lady Evelyne."

Jaime snorted, "You are singing her praises, sweet sister. Would you have rathered that it was _you_ who named her the Queen of Love and Beauty?"

That was the final straw as far as Cersei was concerned. She threw her cup of wine on his floor, not caring that she had drank fairly little of it. And when she rushed at him, her eyes were wild, her fingers bent, fingernails bared. She meant to claw him. Her objective was his face, no doubt.

Jaime waited, poised on the balls of his feet as he would be for a fight. And when she got close enough he grabbed her wrists, keeping her far enough away from him that she could not claw his face. She screamed in anger as he spun them around so that her back was facing his bed and pushed her down on it.

"You have nothing to worry about," he assured her as lowered himself on top of her, bringing his lips to her neck. He smirked against her skin, "Lady Evelyne made it quite clear that she has no interest in me."

It was cruel, that he had lured his sister into a false sense of security. That he had led her to believe that he hadn't wanted the redhead just in time to imply that the reason he had not had her was because _she_ would not have _him_. Cersei's hands were strong and angry as she began to pull on his tunic, quickly pulling it over his head and throwing it to the ground so that she could dig her fingernails into his back.

"That's it," Jaime whispered against her neck. "Mark me for your own, my lioness." He lifted his lips up to hers so that he could press their lips together in a kiss. She kissed him back, her lips mimicking his movements for a moment. And just as he reached for the laces of her dress she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and bit down.

 _Hard_.

He chuckled, low and dark as he pulled away from her, tasting blood in his mouth. She was a lioness, there was no doubt. One that had both claws _and_ teeth. "Careful sister," he warned her as he finished with her laces and pulled the front of her dress open, baring her to the waist. "I will need those lips to seduce Lady Evelyne at the feast."

"You're going to that?" Cersei hissed as he lowered his lips back to her neck and began to kiss his way down, jawbone to collar bone. Despite her anger her hands lifted to his hair, fisting at his golden strands and insistently pushing his lips lower.

"It's expected," Jamie told her as he obliged her wishes and brought his lips to her breasts. He made his way slowly, kissing and licking and nipping in a large, slow circle around her right nipple. Each turn got a little smaller, a little closer to where she really wanted him.

She groaned out in frustration, though he was not sure if she was frustrated because he would not touch her where she wanted or because he planned to attend the feast in his and Evelyne's honor. "You expect me," she started, gasping and losing her train of thought for a moment when his lips finally closed around her firm nipple. "You expect me to attend the feast and watch as that little _whore_ flirts with you?"

His teeth closed around her nipple at the word _whore_. He bit down a little harder than he usually would, a silent warning. His sister did not catch it, she thought the bite was for her benefit. "Think of the fun we could have had, Jaime," she whispered as she nudged him impatiently toward her left breast.

Jaime obliged, lifting his hand to knead at her right breast as he lavished the same attentions on her left with his mouth. "The fun?" he asked against her warm, wet skin. "Seated next to the crowned prince and his wife?"

Cersei nodded as her hands worked their way between them so that she could begin to work on the laces of his breeches. She was an impatient thing tonight. Angry and impatient. Jaime's favorite combination. "Like when you visited King's Landing," she reminded him as she roughly shoved his breeches down, first with her hands and then when they could no longer reach she bent her knee and used her foot to shove his breeches to the floor. "When we had dinner with Father," she continued as her hands moved to her skirts so that she could push them off as well. She craned her neck so that she could run her tongue along the outside of his ear, "He never knew. And if we got one over on him, we could have done it with anyone."

Jaime groaned, remembering the dinner she was talking about. There, at dinner, in front of their father, Cersei had undone the laces on his breeches and brought him to a finish at the table with her hand. And their father had not noticed a thing.

Now that she was completely naked Cersei was no longer as entertained with what he was doing to her breasts. She brought her hands to his shoulders and pushed, none too gently. Jaime chuckled against her skin, he knew what she wanted. And as almost always, he was unable to resist her.

He slowly made his way down her stomach, kissing and biting at the skin. He skipped over where she want him, only allowing her the briefest of touches when he ran his fingers through her golden curls. Then he lifted her left leg in the air, leaning it against his chest.

He pressed a kiss to the inner arch of her foot. Then her ankle. The back of her calf. The back of her knee. Several kisses up her inner thigh. And then he was there, his mouth hovering just above her womanhood. "Gods," he breathed, smirking when she shivered as his breath hit her. "You're beautiful, Cersei."

But she did not need to hear that. She already knew that she was beautiful. Her hand fell to the back of his head and she forcefully pushed his face closer to her, bucking her hips up to meet him.

They both moaned with the first lick. Cersei because this was what she had been after the entire time. Jaime because he had forgotten how good she tasted. He lifted his hand back to her curls, burying his fingers inside of them as he searched for that little bundle of nerves that drove her crazy. And forcing his tongue between her folds, deeper inside of her, lapping determinedly as she got wetter and wetter underneath his tongue.

She tugged on his hair and continued to buck her hips against him, searching for release. Jaime would be sure to give it to her. He continued his ministrations and the rhythm of her hips sped up until there was no rhythm at all. She moaned his name and a shiver ran through her body as she came to her end.

Jaime stayed where he was, as she liked, licking her clean before he lifted his face from her womanhood and began to crawl his way back on top of her. As always, her end had made him as hard as a rock. He lifted his lips to Cersei's, but she turned her head away. She would never kiss him after _that_ , she didn't like the taste of herself on his lips.

But she did push him gently, rolling him over onto his back. Jaime smiled at her, as she pushed herself up until she was straddling him. She _never_ rode him. Perhaps he should make her jealous more often. His hands came to settle on her hips and she smiled at him, almost sweetly as she pushed his hands away, ready to take control for her own.

And then she stood up and walked away from him.

"Cersei," Jaime called out, he didn't believe it. She was playing with him, she had to be. But she did not turn to look at him. She moved away from the bed, grabbing her dress and stepping into it. "Cersei," he tried again, this time moaning her name.

She turned to look at him as she laced up the front of her dress. She raised her eyebrows at him, silently waiting for him to tell her what his problem was, though he was sure that she knew it. He raised his eyebrows at her and gestured down toward his manhood, still hard and straining.

She smiled, cruel and cold, at him as she bent to grab her cloak. "Why don't you go find _your_ Lady Evelyne?" she sneered at him.

And then she left him.

...

Over the next two days leading up to the feast his sister gave him the cold shoulder. She did not come to his tent at night. She did not search him out during the day. When he did see her around other people she was cold to him, and distant. She meant to make him regret his decision to crown the Forrester girl instead of her. But all her distant behavior did was send him looking for _her_.

Not that the redheaded minx was easy to find. He searched the Godswood for her, the sept, he walked amongst the northern men's tents. But no matter where he looked or who he asked, Evelyne seemed to evade him.

He finally found her on the afternoon of the feast. She and her brunette friend were at Lord Crakehall's archery butts. Evelyne held a longbow in her hands, her friend held a collection of arrows. Jaime hung back from them, watching curiously as the brunette handed Evelyne an arrow. "Ev," the girl sighed, "we should go. We've got to get ready for the feast."

" _You've_ got to get ready for the feast," Evelyne countered as she nocked her arrow and took aim at her target.

"You're going in that?" the brunette asked as Evelyne loosed her arrow.

Jaime would have been lying to say that he was not impressed when the girl's arrow soared through the air and hit its target. Or when Evelyne told her friend in a rather determined voice, "I'm not going at all."

The brunette sighed, "You're too stubborn by half, Evelyne."

Evelyne sighed and lowered her bow until the bottom of it was touching the ground. Then almost leaning against the wood she reached out to her friend and ran her fingers through a strand of her dark brown hair. "And you're too sweet by half," she told her friend, smiling kindly. "And too gullible if you believe for a moment Jaime Lannister would be upset if I did not attend."

"I think he would be," the brunette said urgently. "He clearly thinks you're very beautiful."

"Ah," Evelyne agreed with a nod as she lifted her bow and snatched an arrow out of her friend's arms. "And I suppose that you think he will be as entranced by my mind as he is by my face?"

The brunette smiled at her, "I would not have him in love with you by the end of the evening," she told Evelyne. "But _interested_? _Intrigued_? And yes, _entranced_? Yes."

Jaime had meant to speak to her, that was why he had searched her out. But after hearing that he was unsure if he should. Unsure of what he would say. Unsure if he wanted to say anything at all.

Before they could see him he quickly backed up and left them to their target.

-.-.-.-.-

Lyanna got her way. As was usually the case between her and Evelyne. The girl was just so stubborn, despite her accusation that it was Evelyne herself that was _too stubborn by half_. And she was strong-willed. And when she got it in her mind that something was going to happen, it usually did.

Which was why Evelyne was now being escorted by her brother into Lord Crakehall's castle in a dress of lilac silk with gold flowers stitched in. It was a ridiculous dress, and completely useless in the North, but it was her mother's favorite. A holdover from her mother's southern days. The North called for wool, high necklines, dark colors. This dress was a light silk, a low neckline, and the lightest, faintest shade of purple. But it did do _wonderful_ things to her hair.

Her hair looked _more_ red. And when the sunlight hit it, it almost shone like gold. Evelyne had asked Lyanna to help her braid her hair, but Lyanna had told her no almost instantly. She had allowed for two single braids that started at her temples and met at the back of her head where they tumbled into loose red gold waves. Her flower crown sat on top of her head, Lyanna had worked some sort of magic on it so that Evelyne could not even tell that she plucked half the flowers loose.

She reached up, her right hand fiddling with one of the flowers. "Relax," Asher whispered to her. "You look beautiful, Ev."

She sighed, "I wish I was as sure of that as you are, brother," she whispered.

They had approached Lord and Lady Crakehall now and whatever her brother would have told her would have to wait. The Lady smiled kindly at her while her husband greeted Evelyne and her brother. "Ser Asher," Lord Sumner greeted her brother with a jovial smile, "you will be seated with your brothers at one of the lower tables. And our Queen of Love and Beauty,"

"Lady Evelyne," his wife cut in.

Lord Sumner nodded, "Lady Evelyne will be seated at the high table. Ser Jaime is already seated. Will you allow me to escort you?"

Evelyne nodded and released her brother's arm so that she could place her hand on Lord Sumner's offered arm. He chuckled to himself as they started to walk toward the high table. "May I say that you look lovely this evening, Lady Evelyne," Lord Sumner told her as they walked.

"Thank you, my Lord," Evelyne told him, unsure of what else she should say. "Your wife looks wonderful as well."

He nodded, "You're very kind, my Lady."

Evelyne was saved from having to respond by their arrival at the high table. Though she wasn't entirely sure if she was grateful. Jaime was the only one at the table. There was one empty seat to his left for her and four empty seats to his right for the crown prince and his wife and Lord and Lady Crakehall. Evelyne's heart fell when she realized that she would be cut off from everyone else during the feast. Jaime would be the easiest and in some cases only person she could speak to.

He smirked at her when he caught sight of her eyeing her seat. He had chosen his seat on purpose, and he had chosen it well. "Lady Evelyne," he greeted to her, smiling even wider as he stood from his seat and pulled out her chair.

"Ser Jaime," Evelyne greeted in return. She even smiled at him as she sat down in her chair. He pushed her chair in, much closer to the table than she would have done herself. She grimaced, the edge of the table was digging into her stomach. "You're too kind, Ser."

He chuckled, leaning down so that he could whisper in her ear, "And you're a liar, minx."

She sighed, though she did not argue with him. He was right after all. He moved back to his chair and sat back down. "You are a difficult one to find, my Lady," he told her, his voice gentle.

She turned to look at him, "Were you looking for me, Ser Jaime?" she asked him. She had hoped her tone would be light and unattached, but it came out sarcastic. Her brothers had always told her that she used sarcasm like armor. And she was doing it again this evening.

Jaime smiled at her and nodded, "There's that wall again," he murmured as he looked away from her and out over the hall in front of them. "Is that what you were off doing?" he asked. "Shooting a longbow and building walls?"

Evelyne turned her head quickly to face him, she raised her eyebrows. "So you did _find_ me, didn't you?" she asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Only this afternoon," he told her, as if it wasn't strange that he had spent the days after the tournament looking for her. She supposed that she should have been flattered, grateful even, that he had looked for her, that he wanted her. Half the women in the Seven Kingdoms would have been thrilled to be in her position. But every time she began to feel flattered she would remember his smirk on the first day they met. How he had gloated. How insufferable he had been almost every moment after that. Her jaw clenched.

As if he could tell that she was erecting another wall Jaime changed the subject, "Who was the girl you were with this afternoon?" he asked her.

"Lyanna Stark," Evelyne told him with a gentle shrug of her shoulders.

"Ah," Jaime grinned at her with a nod. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin, studying her. "Getting to know your betrothed's sister?"

Evelyne shook her head, "He's not my betrothed," she told him. "It's not official, I mean."

"Yet," Jaime interrupted her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "And Lyanna has been my friend since I was a child," Evelyne continued as if he had not spoken, she turned away from him, looking out at the hall, but still speaking to him. "I spent a summer at Winterfell when I was a child. And Lyanna came to Ironrath with her father several times. _She_ is the reason that I wanted to come to the tournament."

"I thought it was for the knights and the tales of their valor," Jaime teased her.

She could feel her lips turning up at the corners. She pursed them to keep from smiling. "Those too," she told him. She turned to look at him then, "I believe you promised me that you would tell me more stories at the feast," she prompted. He stayed silent. She widened her eyes playfully and looked around them, "We're at the feast, are we not, Ser Jaime?"

"It would seem that we are," he told her with a smile. "Very well, what would you like to hear about today?"

Evelyne opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the steward requesting that everyone stand for the entrance of Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia. She moved her hands toward the seat of her chair so that she could push it away from the table, but Jaime was much faster than her. He pulled her seat out for her and held out his hand to help her stand.

To his credit he politely dropped her hand the moment she was standing. Given his previous behavior Evelyne had assumed she would have to pull her hand from his grasp again. She smiled at him.

He leaned closer to her, his eyes resolutely forward, watching the prince and princess, so that he could whisper in her ear, "I am _capable_ of behaving, you know. It's simply more fun not to."

Despite herself, Evelyne felt her smile widen. She ducked her head to hide it from him, and curtsied low as the prince and princess took their seats. Jaime waited until she was seated and he had pushed his own chair in before he turned back to her. His action surprised her, she would have assumed that Jaime would have taken this opportunity to speak to the prince and the princess. That was what Lord and Lady Crakehall were doing. That was what almost any man would have done.

But Jaime turned back to her. Though, she supposed he did not have much further to climb. The Lannisters were richer than the crown, everyone knew it. They were the few who did not have to grovel to the king. Or his son.

"Well," he sighed, once their wine had been poured. "As I told you after I crowned you, I am at your service. What would you hear from me this evening, Evelyne?"

"You're much too forward," Evelyne scolded him, taking a sip of her wine.

"And you're much too proper," Jaime shot back. "But if you wish, my Lady, we can always pass this feast in silence. I can keep my stories for a friendlier pair of ears."

That was the last thing Evelyne wanted, "Tell me about the Kingswood Brotherhood," she blurted out, practically turning in her chair so that she could look at him.

Jaime chuckled, "I told you about them the other day," he told her.

"No," Evelyne corrected. "You told me about the Smiling Knight. Now I would hear the rest of the tale. What brought _you_ to the battle? You were only a boy."

"I was a _squire_ ," Jaime corrected her. "For Lord Sumner Crakehall, to tell you true. He brought be to the battle."

"And were you frightened?"

"Terrified," he told her with a grin. "But exhilarated at the same moment. I had been training with a sword for so long, it did not feel like a piece of metal. It felt like it was a _part_ of me. It felt as if time slowed down as I fought. As if I could not die as long as I had that sword in my hand."

"But you could have," Evelyne pointed out.

"Aye, but instead other men died." He took another sip of wine, long and slow. Against her will Evelyne's eyes dropped to his throat, watching him swallow. As he put his cup down she looked away quickly. "I killed my first man that day," Jaime told her. His voice was low. And when she turned to look at him his green eyes were staring in front of him. Though it was not the people or the hall that he was watching. His eyes were distant, far away.

 _He is at battle_ , Evelyne realized. "Who was he?" she asked, bringing him back just enough to remember that he was supposed to be telling her a tale.

"A boy more than a man," he told her with a shake of his head. "A nobody. I cut his head off with one swing."

Evelyne raised her eyebrows, she was impressed, though she hated to admit it. "Not an easy feat for a grown man, let alone a squire." Jaime nodded silently, acknowledging her quiet praise. "And that was why they knighted you?" she asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders, "To tell you true, my Lady, to this day I do not know what action caused Ser Arthur to knight me. Perhaps it was that kill, though I would wager not. He was a nobody, after all. Perhaps it was when I saved Lord Sumner from death. Or when I managed to hold off the Smiling Knight until Ser Arthur could cross swords with him. I'm sure it was not for my gawking though."

"Gawking?" Evelyne parroted back.

Jaime nodded, "It was my first time in battle. And I had the privilege to be there with the Sword of the Morning _and_ Ser Barristan Selmy. _They_ were everything I had ever wanted to be. Artists, though they used blade instead of brush. Singers, though their songs were war cries. Dancers, though their dance was death."

"And you are a poet," Evelyne teased as their food was brought to them, "whose poems are praise." They had talked their way through the first part of the feast, ignoring everyone around them. But Prince Rhaegar had not ignored them. He had sent the two of them the choice pieces of the boar that had been presented to him first.

Jaime turned from her to smile and nod his thanks to the prince. Rhaegar chuckled, "I had hoped that that might catch your attention, Ser Jaime." He leaned forward a little more, "Though now that I can get a good look at your companion I see why she has all of your attention. You look enchanting, my Lady."

Evelyne blushed under his praise and silently nodded her gratitude. Jaime turned back to her and smiled, his green eyes glinting playfully, "He tells the truth," he told her, his voice little more than a whisper. "You are enchanting."

"And now _you_ are a liar," Evelyne shot back. Though her smile softened her words.

Jaime placed a hand over his heart, "You wound me, my Lady." Evelyne smirked as she took a sip of her wine. When he realized that he was not going to get an answer from her he sighed, "The only way to make it up to me will be to dance with me," he told her. "The opening song."

Evelyne shook her head as she turned to look at him. She was about to tell him no when the princess Elia spoke up, "Oh please do, Lady Evelyne," the princess smiled at her. "I have heard so many things about how you northerners dance. I would love to see it in person."

Evelyne wanted to point out that there were plenty of other Northmen that the princess could watch dance. But it would have been rude. Courtesy demanded that she oblige the princess. Jaime was chuckling at her when she closed her eyes and nodded, silently assenting to the princess's request.

He was not chuckling, however, a moment later when she slammed her heel down on his foot underneath the table.

"Witch," he hissed at her, though his green eyes were still sparkling with mirth.

"Fool," Evelyne hissed back.

* * *

Author's Note:

I'm back! And you guys are fantastic! I have definitely been feeling the love when it came to this story over the last week. Thank you so much for that! Your support means so much.  
Which is why you're getting an update tonight. because you guys are wonderful and your reviews practically bribed me into updating as soon as I possibly could.  
I hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter. If you did let me know. That empty little box down there is just waiting for your review. Don't be shy.  
The BIGGEST thanks imaginable to the wonderful souls who reviewed during the last week. All ten of you. You guys are my favorite people right now. And as always I can't wait to respond. So lets, jump in!

 _jasdeep mehndiratta_ : Thank you for your review! I hope that you enjoyed this newest chapter too! Now that it's my off week I will be able to update more often. :D

 _Man_ : I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. And I hope that this chapter helped me maintain my new position as your favorite author. Seriously, you have no idea how much it means to me to hear that.

 _EarthBorn93_ : Thank you! I honestly, clearly have no idea about medieval weapons, so it's fun to learn things. So thank you for sharing. I'm off to do more research now. And I love random historical information. So hopefully there will be lots more of it. And I won't make a giant mistake again.

 _HPuni101_ : Thank you dear! Here's the newest update! I hope you enjoy it. (And I'll see you in a little bit over in HHNF ... because that's where I'm going next!)

 _DannyBlack70:_ Hello! I love the cross contamination between my two stories. It makes me ridiculously happy. I'm glad you're enjoying this story and I hope that you enjoyed this update as well. And I know what you mean, I'm a Stark kid. I love them. And I sincerely toyed with not having this be a Jaime story. But I love Ned and Caitlyn and then in its outline this story took a wonderful turn that you guys won't see for a little while and it _had_ to be Jaime. But I won't be too mean to Ned.

 _thenellegirl27_ : Another cross contaminant from Hell Hath No Fury! Seriously, I love it. And I am glad that with my mix of "beautifully written" story and pre ASOIAF storyline that I am doing a small bit of work in winning you over as far as Jaime Lannister goes. I hope you enjoyed this chapter too! And don't worry, my Jon story is going to be great, though I probably will not start posting it until I finish either this story or HHNF. I can do two active stories at once apparently, but I cannot do three. And I do not want to halfass any of them.

 _shika93_ : Thank you for your three reviews my dear! I'm so glad that you're enjoying this story so far and I hope that this chapter was as enjoyable as the first three.

 _Jaimefan_ : Jaime did save her life. And a part of her is grateful for it. But let's be honest, Jaime Lannister can be a smug jerk. And Evelyne does not respond well to that. She doesn't hate him, but she does not want him to get a bigger head than he already has.

 _Guest_ : Good thing you love the Jaime/Evelyne scenes. Because there's a lot of them. And there are many more to come. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!

 _Jd_ : Thank you! And I will update soon!

That's all I've got for now my friends! I hope that you enjoyed it.  
See you back here soon!  
Chloe Jane.


	5. Chapter Five: No Man's Second Choice

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

 _Chapter Five: No Man's Second Choice_

Once the feasting was finished Lord Sumner brought his musicians out. The first dance belonged to Prince Rhaegar and his wife, Princess Elia. Everyone sat in their seats and watched, clapping appreciatively when the song was over. Then they took their seats and as the musicians began to play the introduction to their second song and other dancers took the floor Princess Elia leaned around Jaime to smile at Evelyne, "Lady Evelyne," she called, catching the red headed girl's attention. "I believe that you promise Ser Jaime and I a dance."

Jaime chuckled as the girl's face fell. He could practically read her mind. She had been hoping that the princess had forgotten there conversation at the beginning of the feast. She glanced at him, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. This look was more difficult to read, was she debating telling him no? Or perhaps she was silently threatening him, trying to get him to turn her down.

That was one thing he would not do. He leaned closer to her, his hair falling into his eyes and he grinned at her, "Just one dance, Lady Evelyne?" he requested in a whisper. "Where's the harm in that?"

"Oh there's plenty of harm, I'm sure," she told him though her eyes were no longer narrowed. She gathered her skirts and stood from her chair, waiting for him to stand as well.

"There's a girl," Jaime praised her softly as he held out his hand to her and guided her down onto the floor.

Four lines of dancers ran down the hall, a line of twelve men their backs to the left side of the hall and a line of twelve women facing them. Then with their backs facing the women another line of twelve men and their twelve partners with their backs facing the right side of the hall. Forty-eight dancers in hall. Each group of twelve couples was separated into two groups of six dancers. Three men and three women.

Jaime and Evelyne picked up the head spots of one of those groups. Beside them stood Lyanna Stark and Robert Baratheon. And at the end of their group of six was one of Lord Crakehall's sons and his sister. It was not a bad group, though it was made more awkward a moment before the dancing started when Cersei approached them and practically pushed the poor Crakehall girl out of her spot so that she could join them.

Jaime watched his sister with a smirk. Evelyne and Lyanna glanced at each other, Evelyne raised her eyebrows silently at her friend and sent the girl into a fit of giggles. Cersei rolled her eyes at them.

The then dance started.

All the dancers turned toward the high table and curtsied or bowed to the royal couple. Then the ladies slipped their hands into their partners and they started to dance. It had been some time since Jaime had danced with a woman, and even longer since he had danced this specific dance. He chuckled to himself, "It would seem that I have forgotten how this one goes, my Lady," he told Evelyne, leaning across the space between them to speak to her.

She rolled her eyes at him, "Then perhaps you should not have led me to the front of the group, Ser," she whispered back. He thought that she was going to leave it at that, but then she spoke again. "Three steps forward, stomp your left foot. Three steps backward -"

"Stomp my right?" Jaime asked her.

She nodded, "And again. This dance is very repetitive."

He followed her instructions, smiling at the end of the move when they turned to face each other and Evelyne gave him her other hand so that he could hold both of them. "I like this move," he told her as they side skipped three times to their left and paused. Lyanna and Robert followed them and paused as well as they waited for Cersei and her partner to do the same.

"Once all three pairs are at the top we will let go and spin once to the right," Evelyne told him.

Lyanna giggled, "He does not know the steps?" she asked her friend, her grey eyes sparkling as she watched Jaime.

"No," Evelyne told her, her blue eyes never leaving Jaime's face, "I told you that the man was a fool."

Cersei and her partner arrived and before Jaime could say anything in his defense Evelyne pulled her hands free from his grasp and all six dancers spun around in identical tight circles. Then the ladies placed their hands back in their partner's grasp and Cersei and the Crakehall boy side skipped three times to their right.

"You should be kinder to him," Lyanna scolded before she and Robert skipped away from them.

"You should listen to your friend," Jaime told her as they followed behind, regrouping together again.

"And you shouldn't need a girl to fight your battles for you, Ser," Evelyne scolded him before they turned in their tight circles again, this time to the left.

"Is this a battle?" Jaime asked her, "I thought it was a dance."

In the next move the couples moved in toward each other then turned so that the women took the men's place and the men took the women's as they moved back away from each other. It was done four times, each time the man and the woman switched places, coming back to their original place on the second and fourth turns.

For most couples this move was done with very little touching, but where was the fun in that? On the second turn Jaime reached across the small space between them and allowed his hand to fall to Evelyne's low back, pulling her closer to him until her chest was pressed against his. She gasped, it felt good, the way her chest rose and pressed against his. He wanted to make her gasp again, but it was time to step away from each other. He did so slowly, allowing his hand to drag across her back until it was no longer touching her and she could step away from him.

She was more prepared for his hand on her back on the third turn, she did not gasp, "I suppose when you don't know the moves you could always just improvise them," she told him, her eyes never leaving his face.

He chuckled, "Are you having a staring contest with me, Evelyne?" he asked as they stepped away from each other.

She did not lower her eyes, instead she silently arched an eyebrow on him and on the fourth and final turn she slid her right arm underneath his left and brought her hand to his low back, mimicking his move. "Aren't most ladies supposed to be demure and not make eye contact?" he asked her as his hand started its gentle slide away from her.

"Aren't most knights supposed to be proper and chivalrous?" she countered as she stepped away from him.

Before he could say anything she moved away from him, crossing on the diagonal, her back almost brushing against the Crakehall boy's back as she and the man switched places, his top left corner for her bottom right.

Next it was his and Cersei's turn to cross the group. They were supposed to go back to back, Jaime did at least. But Cersei, she moved more slowly than Evelyne had, she got closer to Jaime than Evelyne did to the Crakehall boy, and she faced him as she moved.

He did not see her, but he felt her breasts press against his back as he moved past her. When he came to a stop in front of Evelyne her eyebrows were raised, watching Cersei take her place as Robert and Lyanna spun around each other in the middle of the group to bring the Stark girl to stand in her spot between Evelyne and Cersei.

"What is it?" Jaime asked her, wondering what she was thinking. Wondering what she had noticed.

"Nothing," Evelyne told him, shaking her head. "You and your sister share the same penchant for improvisation."

Jaime shrugged his shoulders, "The Lannisters did not become the richest House in Westeros by following the rules," he told her.

"No I suppose not," Evelyne agreed as all the couples spun once in their spots before returning to face each other. "But that is why no one likes the Lannisters." She smirked at him before she and the Crakehall boy set off to cross the group again, retaking their original spots.

Cersei and Jaime followed again. Jaime kept his back to his sister, but out of the corner of his eye he saw that she meant to press herself against him again. Just before they reached each other he took a step forward, widening the space between them and causing his sister to stumble when she leaned too far forward.

He could hear Lyanna giggling over the music as she and Robert spun around each other in the middle again before retaking their original places. All six dancers spun in a tight circle before coming back to face their partners.

Next they stepped toward each other, their right hands outstretched. The politer pairs held hands. The more forward couples held wrists. Evelyne and Jaime held each other's elbows, pulling each other in close, trying to make each other uncomfortable as they spun around each other twice before taking their original spots.

The move was repeated again, though this time they grabbed left arms and spun in the opposite direction.

Jaime watched Evelyne as they spun. Her eyes were sparkling in the torch light. They looked bluer than he had ever seen them. _Fire blue_ came to mind as he looked at them, he recalled that ironwood burned with blue flames when it could be burned. They said it only burned for Forresters. This was a girl of fire; her hair red and gold like normal flames, her eyes blue like ironwood flames.

She bit her bottom lip as if she was uncomfortable and for the first time during their dance she looked down, away from him.

"Do I frighten you?" he asked her as they started to step away from each other.

"No," she told him, lifting her gaze back to his face, "though I think you wish you did." She looked away from him and nodded, "Pretend you're a snake," she told him.

"What?" Jaime asked, though he understood in a moment. The men were moving, weaving between each other and taking each other's places as the women remained still. Robert and the Crakehall boy went first. Now the Crakehall boy was in the middle and Robert was standing across from Cersei.

Then Jaime joined the fray. He moved right to move around the Crakehall and then wove himself between the boy and Baratheon, coming to stand for a brief moment in front of Cersei, ignoring the sultry look she flashed him. Then a moment later he weaved himself back toward his original spot. He was quite proud of himself for managing it all without running into anyone.

As the men retook their places the women spun once before they too weaved their way between each other. The men spun as the women took their original places again and they held hands as they took three steps forward and stomped on their left foot.

Three steps back and stomp on the right.

"That's the dance," Evelyne murmured from her place beside him. "We will run it twice more and then it will be over."

Jaime chuckled at her, "And you will leave me as soon as it's over, won't you?" he asked her. "Find a different partner that you enjoy more? A Stark perhaps?"

She arched an eyebrow at him, "And perhaps you can dance with your sister," she fired back. "Lady Cersei seems desperate to get your attention."

"It is attention she wants," Jaime agreed with her. "Though I'm not sure that it's mine." He glanced toward the head table, Prince Rhaegar was paying their group special attention, he knew that his sister hoped that it was _she_ he was paying attention to. "My sister has always wanted to be a princess."

Evelyne shot him a look, what he just said was treason and he was sure that she was going to point that out. But instead she smirked at him and shook her head, "And there you go, Lannister, breaking the rules again."

Jaime grinned at her, "You should try it some time, Forrester."

-.-.-.-.-

She sat out the next dance. She had hoped to sit with Lyanna, but on their way to one of the tables Prince Rhaegar had approached them and asked Lyanna for a dance. Lyanna would not have been able to say no, even if she wanted to. When the crowned prince of Westeros asks for a dance, he got it.

Evelyne smiled to herself as she moved toward a table on her own. She was not alone for long though. She could hear someone walking behind her and she turned, almost expecting to see Jaime Lannister following her, but it was a different blonde.

Cersei Lannister stood behind her, her gold hair shining against her red dress. _The Lannisters really do love their red_ , she thought to herself as she smiled, "Lady Cersei," she greeted the woman. "I don't believe that I have had the pleasure of officially meeting you."

The blonde smiled at her, cold and distant, "Nor I you, Lady Evelyne," she told her as she moved closer to her. "But I've heard so much about you that I feel as if I already know you."

"Oh?" Evelyne asked, raising her eyebrows as Cersei looped her arm through Evelyne's and began to walk toward the tables beside her. "I hope it was all interesting."

Cersei laughed, Evelyne noticed that when the woman laughed her eyes didn't sparkle like her brothers. They were twins and she couldn't understand how they could be so different. "It has been," Cersei assured her. "And from almost everyone. Your first time south of the Wolfswood and you've got everyone talking about you."

Evelyne shrugged her shoulders as they sat down on one of the benches. She had hoped once they were sitting that Cersei would let go of her, but it seemed that one thing Cersei and her twin had in common was their inability to leave her alone. Cersei kept their arms looped together and even shifted herself closer, as if they were good friends. "I'm a novelty," she assured the blonde. She had a feeling that Cersei Lannister felt threatened by her, though she had no idea why. "The next tournament I come to I won't be nearly as interesting."

"That's what I told my brother," Cersei told her. Evelyne raised her eyebrows; Cersei's tone of voice sounded as if she meant to be reassuring, but her words were a bit of a veiled insult. "But he seems quite taken with you."

"Does he?" Evelyne asked, she tried to sound as uninterested as possible. She sighed, "I've tried to tell him to leave me be, but he told me he was a stubborn sort."

The right side of Cersei's mouth twitched up into a smile, "He is," she told her. "He has been since we were children. Jaime has always wanted what he could not have. It's a shame really, any woman in the Seven Kingdoms would have him, happily. And yet, the only one he wants is the one he _cannot_ have."

Evelyne raised her eyebrows, "I would hardly say that he wants me," she argued. "I am a temporary fascination. I leave to return to Ironrath in the morning and he will forget about me by sunset."

When Cersei laughed she threw her head back and her golden curls danced down her back. "Oh sweet girl," she laughed, though they were very close in age. "I did not mean _you_. _You_ are not the woman he wants."

That hurt to hear, though Evelyne was unsure of why. More often than not Jaime Lannister drove her to madness. He was smug, overly confident, rude, he had no shame, and was much too proud of himself. She yelled at him more than she spoke to him. He was exactly the kind of man that she would never want to marry. But something stung to hear Cersei so sure that Jaime did not want her.

Had he told his sister that?

Why did it matter if he had?

"Though as I said, he cannot have the woman he wants," Cersei continued, as if she did not notice that this was the last conversation that Evelyne would want to have. "And our father wants him betrothed to Lysa Tully. Jaime definitely does not want that. He had hoped that his performance in the tournament here would be enough to earn him a spot on the Kingsguard."

"Kingsguard are not allowed to marry," Evelyne murmured quietly. It should not have come as a surprise to her that Jaime wanted to join the Kingsguard, he idolized Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan Selmy and both of them wore white cloaks. She wondered why he had not told her that while he was telling her stories about knights and battles.

"No," Cersei agreed, "but there is always the risk that the king won't want him. Or that our father will refuse him. I suppose he's hedging his bets with you. If he can't join the guard, you would make a better wife for him than Lysa Tully."

She looked at Evelyne for a moment, "Prettier for certain," she murmured, her voice soft and thoughtful. Without asking for permission she reached out and captured a strand of Evelyne's red hair between her index and middle finger. "Your hair truly is a lovely shade of red," she told her. "What is it they call it in the North?"

"Kissed by fire," Evelyne told her, her voice soft. "Though that's north of the Wall."

"Wildlings," Cersei agreed with a nod. She twisted the strand of hair around her fingers and gave it a little tug, not enough to rip it out, but enough to make Evelyne flinch. "But then again all you northmen are a bit wild, aren't you?"

"We're more civilized than some," Evelyne told her, bristling at the insult. She reached her hand up and pulled her hair out of Cersei's grasp. "The mountain clans in the East for example."

"What are the two of you talking about?" she heard behind her. She turned slightly in her seat and pursed her lips, trying not to look too relieved when she saw Jaime standing behind her, looking at his sister with narrow, suspicious eyes. "Cersei," he bit out when she did not answer him right away.

"Nothing, Jaime," Cersei told him, smiling sweetly as she stood from her seat beside Evelyne. "I was just getting to know your Lady Evelyne. She's enchanting." Cersei moved toward him and looped her arm through his. She shot Evelyne a self-satisfied smile that almost felt as if she was _claiming_ him.

"I'm not _his_ ," Evelyne interjected.

Jaime spoke at the same time, his voice was louder than hers and it drowned out her response. "She is," Jaime agreed, pulling his arm free from his sister. He turned away from her, his green eyes falling on Evelyne, "Lady Evelyne, it's a lovely evening, I thought that you might want to take a stroll around the gardens."

Evelyne raised her eyebrows at him, the gardens would be dark now. And it would be incredibly improper for the two of them to walking in the gardens in the dark. But her gaze fell on Cersei, she wondered if she refused him if he would leave her alone with his sister again. And then she remembered his words from earlier about breaking the rules. _You should try it sometime, Forrester_.

Perhaps he was right. She took a deep breath and then she nodded, "I would love to, thank you, Ser Jaime."

He moved away from his sister and held out his hand to her, politely helping her from her seat and leading her out of the hall.

She had been wrong about the gardens. Lord Sumner had lined the paths in his gardens with braziers, they were all burning. The gardens were well lit and beautiful. And as she and Jaime walked along she could hear other couples among the flowers; talking, laughing, having a good time.

They walked along in silence for a few moments before Jaime cleared his throat, "Lady Evelyne," he started. Evelyne turned to him her eyebrows raised, he was being very _proper_ it made her uncomfortable. "You must allow me to apologize for my sister," he told her.

Evelyne waved him off, looking away from him. "There's nothing to apologize for," she told him. "Your sister is lovely."

That was a lie.

But at least it kicked Jaime out of his courteous act. He snorted at her, "Saying that either makes you a liar or a fool, minx," he told her. "And I don't believe that you're a fool. What did she say to you?"

Evelyne shrugged her shoulders, "She complimented my hair," she told him. "And implied that northmen are about as tame as wildlings." Jaime chuckled at that. "And she told me about your plans."

"My plans?" Jaime asked her, raising his eyebrows. "I have to say, that I'm at a loss? What do I plan to do?"

"Join the Kingsguard to get out of marrying Lady Lysa Tully."

He chuckled at her, "Are you jealous, Evelyne?"

"Jealous of _her_?" Evelyne asked. She shook her head, "I would not be jealous of her even if you _wanted_ to marry her."

"Then why are you angry?" Jamie asked her.

 _Because you can read my emotions like I read a book_ , Evelyne thought. "Because she told me that if you are unable to join the Kingsguard that you would propose marrying me over Lysa Tully to your father," was what she said. She stopped walking and turned to glare at him. "You asked me if my father planned to wed me to a Bolton and you guessed that my father would ask my opinion before he made a match. Tell me, Jaime Lannister, what makes you think that I would _ever_ agree to marry you?"

"That's easily done," Jaime told her with a shrug and a grin, "I'm a Lannister."

"And you think the fact that Westeros thinks you shit gold is enough to sway my opinion of you?" Evelyne asked.

His jaw clenched, he had been joking with her earlier, but now he was angry. "And tell me, Evelyne, you've known me for almost a week. What is your _opinion_ of me?"

He sneered the word, as if there was no way that Evelyne, a woman, was able to have her own thoughts.

Evelyne pulled her arm away from him and turned to fully face him, squaring her shoulders as a soldier would before preparing for battle. "You are rude," she told him.

"You are cold," he fired back.

"You are conceited. You act and speak as if the entire world should bow down before you because you're a _Lannister_." She took a step closer to him in her anger.

"You are aloof."

"You take too many liberties." Another step forward.

"You use courtesies and sarcasm as armor because you're too afraid to let anyone see the real you."

"You use your vanity and family name to do the same thing!" A third step forward.

"I saved your life and you couldn't even thank me properly."

"I didn't need saving!" Evelyne yelled at him as she took a fourth step toward him.

"You're stubborn."

"You're narcissistic." A fifth step

"You're ..." he paused, looking down at her; during their argument she had moved closer to him, though she had not realized it until this point when he stared down at her, her chest pressing against hers, "beautiful when you're angry."

She glared at him for a moment before she stepped away from him. It had seemed to her that his head was lowering toward hers as if he meant to kiss her. That was something she would not allow. "And you think a compliment will make me less angry?" she hissed at him. She shook her head, "Perhaps that would work on the woman you love, but it will not work on her unwilling replacement."

"The woman I love?" he asked her, his brows furrowed.

"Your sister told me about her too," Evelyne admitted. "That ever since you were a child you have always wanted what you could not have. And that _now_ you want a woman you cannot have. She implied that I am the second choice." She shook her head, "I will be no man's second choice."

* * *

Author's Note:

Back at it again guys. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. I had fun writing it.  
(If you couldn't tell.)  
If you liked it you should go to that handsome looking box down there and give it a compliment. It's a polite thing, the box, it will even thank you!  
Not that I don't thank you guys!  
Random reference: if you get confused by my description of the dance, or you just want to see it. Pop on over to youtube and search black nag (be right back, going to make sure that it doesn't bring up something weird ... nope, we're good.) Probably not a dance from the Game of Thrones time period, but it's a fun one so I used it.  
And I'm the author, so I'm allowed to.  
Anyway ... HUGE amounts of gratitude to the amazing souls who reviewed on the last chapter. You guys are fabulous!

 _Guest:_ Thank you for your review! I'm so glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. And I hope you enjoyed this one too. I agree, I think Jaime and Evelyne are perfect together too. And I'm happy that I had you laughing at the end of the last chapter. You are more than welcome for the update! I'm glad this is one of your favorites and I hope that it continues to be. As for your question ... about Rhaegar perhaps kidnapping Evelyne instead of Lyanna. No, though Evelyne will come in contact with the Targaryens again.

 _Melmela_ : Thank you! I'm so, so, so glad that this is in your top ten. Especially because it pretty much got posted because of you. It would suck if you didn't like it! I'm glad you love Jaime and Evelyne (and me too!) I love you and your reviews!

 _HPuni101:_ You know if you guys keep praising me like this I'm going to get a big head (like Jaime Lannister). But I love it so keep them coming and I will keep posting! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!

 _man_ : The feast scene was one of my favorite scenes to write, right up until I wrote the ending to this chapter. I really like having them fight. So the romance is going to show up a while down the road, because I am having too much fun putting them at each other's throats.

 _jaimefan_ : Thank you (and I did!) I hope you enjoyed it!

 _Starrside_ : Thank you! Hopefully you enjoyed this one as well!

 _jasdeep mehndiratta_ : Glad you liked the last chapter and I hope you liked this one as well. As for the Jaime/Cersei scenes ... I'm not a fan of them either. But they're a necessary evil (at least for now). There won't be too many of them though, as you can see, Jaime is pulling away from her.

 _Dexter_ : I adore how you reviewed every chapter as you read. That made my day today! Thank you! I'm so glad that you've enjoyed the first four and I hope that chapter five kept that trend going!

 _Tom_ : Thank you for your review! I've got my fingers crossed that perhaps chapter five will top how you felt about chapter four!

That's all folks! I'll see you guys (and Jaime and Evelyne) back here soon!  
Chloe Jane


	6. Chapter Six: Tell Him No

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

My name is Chloe Jane and I am a nerd. My husband and I got two new cats today to join our cat Little Miss (from the Spin Doctors song _Little Miss Can't Be Wrong_ ). The new ones are named Kingslayer (from GoT obviously) and Seven of Nine (From Star Trek).  
The Gods help any children we have.

* * *

 _Chapter Six: Tell Him No_

 _I will be no man's second choice_. Jaime shook his head, the girl's words still echoing in his head. _I will be no man's second choice_. Well if she continued to act the way she did she would be no man's third choice.

Or fifth choice.

Or last choice.

She wanted to be wanted. It was laughable really. The girl wanted to be desired, and she was practically promised to _Ned Stark_. His older brother Brandon at least had a sense of humor, a personality, blood running through his veins. But long-faced, solemn, quiet Ned Stark?

He was a wall when she wanted a man.

Snow when she wanted flames.

Grey skies when she _needed_ the sun.

She wanted to be wanted. But she would spend her life settling, not being the man's first choice, but rather not being a choice at all.

Oh Ned would be kind enough to her. He would be attentive. He would be gentle. He would see to her needs and most likely the majority of her wants. He would do his duty by her as her lord husband. But he would not _want_ her.

Jaime had watched them together during the tournament. He sat by her and walked by her. They rode together. She would laugh and he would smile politely. But he treated her the same as he treated his sister, Lyanna. It was the same practiced patience and indulgence. He did not treat her the way a man would treat a woman he loved. A woman he wanted.

Jaime wondered if Ned Stark would _ever_ want Evelyne Forrester.

He wondered if Ned Stark _could_ ever want _anything_.

 _I will be no man's second choice._

Jaime groaned. The girl was unreachable. She called him _proud_ , but it was her that was full of pride. She was aloof. She was stubborn. She was as cold as the North's winter snows. She spoke out of turn. And she could be cruel.

And she thought that _he_ wanted her? He would have been a fool to want her. And he was no fool.

Still, the morning after the feast he walked toward where her brothers had set up their tents. Perhaps he wanted to apologize to her, perhaps he wanted to cross words with her again. He wouldn't know until he saw her face.

But he never got the chance. She and her brothers were already gone.

And sitting, in the flattened grass, where her pavilion had stood, was her flower crown. Mocking him as if she had known all along that he would come looking for her.

"Seven Hells," Jaime whispered to himself as he bent down to pick up the crown. When had he become so predictable? How was she able to read him like that? To know that he would seek her out? To know that leaving this thrice damned crown behind would bother him so?

He did not stop to wonder why it bothered him. With the crown clenched in his fist he stormed back to his own pavilion. He too would be leaving that day, back to Casterly Rock. But apparently he had not been in as much of a hurry as the Forrester clan.

Cersei was waiting for him in his tent. She would be staying at Crakehall for one more day before the crowned prince and his wife and their court traveled back to King's Landing. She was sitting on his bed when he walked in.

Her feline green eyes narrowed when she saw the flower crown in his hand, "Did she give it back?" she asked him as she stood from his bed and moved closer to him.

Jaime glared down at the crown in his hand, "Of a sort," he admitted, tossing the crown to his sister. "There," he told her once she had caught it. "You can have that. You wanted it so much anyway." He bowed to her, mocking her, "To the most beautiful woman at Crakehall."

Cersei dropped the crown on the floor, "I don't want it because _she_ gave it up. I wanted it when I thought that _you_ thought I was the most beautiful."

"Didn't I just say that?" Jaime almost yelled at her as he moved away from her to begin to pack up his armor. He could have called his squire to do it, but with Cersei in his tent that would have been unsafe. There was no telling what she might say. "Didn't I just tell you that you were the most beautiful woman here?"

"Because she's _gone_ ," Cersei snapped at him. "Your little Forrester whore is gone. She and her brothers left at dawn. I heard that Lyanna Stark begged them to stay until at least midday so that they could ride north with her and Brandon Stark. But the redheaded whore would have none of it. She was upset, they say."

Jaime threw his breast plate to the ground in his irritation. "She is not a _whore_ ," he told his sister. He was unsure of what he was angrier at, his sister for calling Evelyne a whore, or himself for mistreating his armor in his anger.

Cersei raised an eyebrow, "Then _what_ did you do in the garden with her last night?"

Jaime shrugged his shoulders, "She yelled at me," he admitted, not liking the memory of it any more than he had liked it the night before.

Cersei stared at him, "She was hurt," she guessed, trying to sound indifferent. "Wasn't she?" she pressed when he did not answer right away.

"I wouldn't call it _hurt_ ," Jaime told her, refusing to meet his sister's gaze. "She was ... angry." He turned back to her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What did you say to her at the table?" He shook his head, "She told me you told her my _plans_. But I would hear it from you. What did you say to her, Cersei?"

His sister wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged her shoulders. "I told her the truth," she told him. "I told her that father wanted to marry you off to Lysa Tully. I told her that you meant to join the Kingsguard. That you hoped that by winning the tournament you would catch their attention. I told her that if the Kingsguard did not pan out that you would propose a match with her rather than the cow of a Tully. That even _she_ would be better than Lysa."

"Seven Hells, Cersei," Jaime cursed at her. "Why would you tell her that? You lied to the girl?"

"Did I?" Cersei asked. "Because if I did it was only because you lied to me. Do you not want to join the Kingsguard?"

"I do," Jaime admitted.

Cersei nodded, "Then I did her a kindness."

"You made her angry!"

"I _hurt_ her," Cersei argued. "But it was necessary. She's on her way to a betrothal to a Stark. A Stark who will never look at her with desire shining in his eyes. A Stark who will never tell her how beautiful she is. A Stark who will treat her with apathy rather than love." Jaime was surprised that his sister was echoing his own thoughts about the girl and her potential Stark husband.

"And that is good enough for most," Cersei continued, justifying her actions. "Most marriages are like that. But if she had spent much more time with you?" She shook her head, her blonde curls flying around her face, framing it. "She would have fallen in love with you. And it would have hurt her more when you chose the Kingsguard over her. When you chose _me_ over her."

"A _kindness_?" Jaime scoffed. "You did her a _kindness_? Tell me, Cersei, do you believe that lie? Because I don't." He shook his head. "And she wouldn't love me. She didn't want me. She wasn't hurt, she was angry."

"Wouldn't she?" Cersei asked him with a smirk. "What did she tell you last night? In the gardens?"

 _I will be no man's second choice_.

"She was angry because she thought that I presumed to ask her father for her hand when she wasn't interested in me. She was angry because she thought I meant to make her my wife even though she so clearly hates me. She was angry because she thought that I wanted to steal her from a betrothal she thinks she wants to a man she believes is more honorable and worthy than me."

Cersei stared at him and shook her head. For a moment he thought he saw tears sparkling in her eyes, but then he blinked and they were gone. If they had ever been there in the first place. "You like her," she accused him. "You want her. You actually _want_ her." She shook her head again, "I thought that you wanted to join the Kingsguard so that you could be with me. So that we could be together _forever_. But you want her! _Evelyne Forrester_ ," she spat out the girl's name as if it left a foul taste in her mouth.

Jaime's brows furrowed. It had taken him much longer than he cared to admit, but he now realized the flaw in Cersei's plan. If he joined the Kingsguard they would be together in King's Landing for a time. But his sister would not always live at the Red Keep. Their father would find a suitable match for her and she would leave. And he would be unable to. Kingsguard served for life. She would have lands, a husband, children. And Jaime would have nothing.

He wondered if she had realized that, if she knew everything he would give up for her. He had to believe that she didn't. He had to believe it. Because the other option was too horrible. That his twin, his other half, his soulmate wanted him to be at her beck and call, even if it would only make him miserable in the long haul.

He shook his head, "You made a mistake, Cersei," he told his sister. She raised her eyebrows. "You weren't lying when you told her that I have always wanted what I could not have. That I _will_ always want what I can't have. That is true. And now, thanks to your meddling, Evelyne Forrester is the woman that I cannot have."

Cersei's jaw dropped and she shook her head, that had never been her intention. After a moment she squared her shoulders, "So there are two women in the Seven Kingdoms that you want and cannot have. Which one of us will you choose?"

Jamie chuckled, low and dark, "You've forgotten Cersei, I've already had you _."_

 _..._

It was a seven day detour to ride to King's Landing instead of Casterly Rock. But it was worth it when he saw his father's surprise when he entered his father's solar in the Tower of the Hand.

"Jaime," he father greeted, his tone flat and disapproving. There was no smile on his face. "I told my steward that he must have been mistaken when he announced you. I told him that no son of mine would ride all the way to King's Landing when he is supposed to be at the Rock. But here you are." He paused, staring his son down with one arched eyebrow. "I trust that you have a good reason to be here?"

Jaime nodded, he would not beat around the bush. Not with his father. Tywin Lannister appreciated people who did not waste his time. "I will not marry Lysa Tully," he told his father as bluntly as he could.

Tywin raised both his eyebrows now, "I was not aware that my discussions with Lord Hoster Tully were public information," he mused. The older man paused for just a moment before he was able to put the pieces together, "Your sister," he assumed with a sigh. "Did she tell you at the tournament?"

Jaime nodded, feeling no need to tell his father that it had been well before the tournament. And that his sister had tempted him to join the Kingsguard and give up his claim to Casterly Rock by fucking him. "And I won't do it, Father. I will not marry her."

Tywin sighed, "You will do as I command," he told his son. "You are a man now, and my son and heir. It is time that you marry and that you learn how to rule the Rock while your wife gives _you_ an heir."

Jaime shrugged his shoulders, he would not deny that fact. It was his duty. "Be that as it may," he told his father. "It will not be with _that_ woman. I did not say I would not marry, Father, I said that I would not marry _her_."

That caught Tywin's attention. "I see," he murmured. "Am I to understand that you have a different bride in mind?" Jaime nodded. "Do I know her?" Tywin pressed. "Do I know her family?"

"I don't believe so," Jaime told him.

"Is she from a good family? Tywin asked. "Good stock? I will not have another episode like we did with Tyrion."

Jaime looked down, somewhat ashamed of the reminder of the part he had played in all of that. "I believe so," he assured his father. "A northern family."

"Not the Stark girl," Tywin groaned, "She's promised to the Storm Lord, Robert."

"No, not a Stark," Jaime quickly cut in. _There are other Houses in the North_. "Forrester. The only daughter, Lady Evelyne Forrester."

-.-.-.-.-

Her brothers were in high spirits when she arrived in the hall for supper that evening. Normally her brothers' good moods would not be suspicious, but there was something about their grins and the way their eyes sparkled when they looked at her that made her nervous.

Asher and Rodrick were whispering as she took her seat. They broke apart to grin mischievously at her before they continued whispering. Evelyne sighed, "I'm not going to ask," she told her brothers as one of the kitchen boys brought her a loaf a bread and she tore off a piece of it for herself. "So whatever it is that has you acting like a pair of girls at their first feast, if it's something I should know ... just tell me."

Asher chuckled, "Oh sweet sister," he cooed at her across the table. "But you _did_ just ask. In your own sort of way." He turned to Rodrick, "I don't know, Rod, should we tell her?"

Rodrick looked at her, considering her for a moment, "It is something she should know, I suppose," he told his younger brother. "What do you say, Ev? Care to guess?"

"No I do not," Evelyne hissed at him. "Now are you going to tell me, or I should I threaten you with a knife?" Her hand closed around the handle of her knife and she narrowed her eyes at her brothers, smiling in spite of herself as she playfully jabbed her knife at them from across the table.

"None of that," her father called from his spot in the middle of the table. "Put your knife down, Evelyne. Rodrick, Asher, stop your jests. Of course we will tell her the news."

Evelyne smiled cheekily at her brothers before she leaned around Gregor to look at her father. "What news, Father? Has House Whitehill started growing ironwood again?" It was a jest of her own. House Forrester was the only House that had ironwood now. The Whitehills had had a forest once, but they were not as careful with it. They did not tend it as well. They cut too much too fast and three centuries ago they had cut their last ironwood tree. They were jealous of the Forresters large ironwood forest.

"No," her father told her. His tone was flat, but he smirked as he answered. "We've had two ravens this afternoon." Evelyne raised her eyebrows, whatever news the birds had brought must have been good. Her brothers had never been so excited about ravens before. "The first was an invitation, to a tournament in Oldtown in four months time. To celebrate the marriage of Lady Alerie Hightower to Mace Tyrell."

Evelyne smiled at her brothers, "That must be exciting for you, Rodrick, you almost won your first tournament and in four months time you will have a chance at your second." But something did not fit, when she had entered the hall her brothers had been grinning at her. This news had nothing to do with her. "Though how this concerns me, I don't know."

"You were invited too," her father told her, his tone almost dismissive. But that is not what your brothers were teasing about. Remember there was a second raven," he paused as if for dramatic effect, "from Lord Tywin Lannister."

 _Jaime's father?_ Evelyne thought to herself, her eyebrows raised. Her brothers were watching her, smirking. Her father had one of his eyebrows raised in suspicion. Her mother, her lovely mother was grinning at her behind her cup of wine. "I did not realize that the great Lord Tywin Lannister even knew about House Forrester," Evelyne commented, trying to make her voice sound disinterested.

"Oh he seems very aware of us," Gregor assured her.

It couldn't be about her, Evelyne was sure of it. No doubt her brothers were trying to play a trick on her and had somehow persuaded her parents to play along. Evelyne cut a bite of her meat and chewed it thoughtfully before she looked at her father, "Does he wish for some ironwood shields?" she asked, "Rodrick's held up so well at the tournament at Crakehall and his own son's shield splintered in half. I'm sure his son would want a better shield the next time he takes the field, wether it be tourney field or battle."

" _His son_?" Asher parroted, glancing at Rodrick with a smirk. "Watch her pretending not to remember his name. You're playing coy, Ev."

Evelyne narrowed her eyes at Asher, " _Ser Jaime_ then," she sneered at him.

Her father was smiling. "It does have to do with his son and the tournament," he told her.

"Rodrick then," Evelyne guessed though she had a feeling she was wrong again. "Rodrick almost beat the Sword of the Morning in the lists. Then it would have been Ser Jaime and Rodrick in the final rides."

Her father shook his head, "It is not Rodrick," he told her.

"Thank the Gods," she heard Rodrick whisper.

Her mother whispered to him to be quiet. "Lord Tywin asked about you, Evelyne," her mother, the Lady Elissa told her.

"Me?" Evelyne echoed. Though she had seen this coming, despite her poor guesses. Her brothers had promised her the news concerned her after all. "What could Lord Tywin Lannister want with me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Rodrick asked her.

"Enough," her father ordered him. "Lord Tywin wishes to have you marry his son, Ser Jaime." Evelyne raised her eyebrows and her mouth dropped open. She had not expected that. Of anything she could have imagined it was not that. After what she had said to Jaime the night before she and her brothers left the tournament? She could not understand why he would want it. Why he would want her. And he must have. The Forresters were an old and proud house, fairly well known in the North, but she was sure that Lord Tywin Lannister would not have thought of her as a potential bride for his son without some push from Jaime. "You'll want some time to consider the offer," her father suggested when she did not say anything.

"No," she told him, shaking her head. Everyone at the table turned to look at her. "No," she repeated, making sure they understood what she was saying. "No, I do not need time. No, I do not want to consider the offer. No, I will not marry him." And then once more for good measure, "No."

"Evelyne," her father started but Evelyne did not want to listen.

She stood up from the table, "Please allow me to be excused," she told them before she stood up and quickly swept out of the hall.

...

It was her mother who came to find her that evening. She was out in the yard practicing with her longbow when he mother walked up behind her. She didn't need to turn to know was her, even outside in the warm, fragrant summer air she could smell the scent that was entirely her mother. Roses and southern wine. Two things, like Lady Elissa, that did not belong this far north.

Her mother waited patiently while Evelyne loosed her current arrow before she spoke, "You would be the Lady of a great castle," her mother told her. "Casterly Rock and all its attendant lands and titles. Your sons would be the Wardens of the West."

Evelyne turned slightly, selecting an arrow from the bucket of them beside her, "As of now, I have no sons," she told her mother. "Perhaps I will never have sons. This marriage would all be for naught if I only have daughters. What of them?"

"Then your daughters will have their choice of any highborn son they could want," her mother told her as she nocked her arrow.

" _Choice,_ " Evelyne echoed as she drew the bow, anchoring her thumb by her mouth, "so my future daughters will be given a choice that their mother was not."

She released the bow string and sent her arrow flying though the air at her target.

Her mother sighed behind her, "We all want better for our children," she told her. "When I was your age I wasn't given a choice. I was sent up here in the middle of the winter to marry your father. I didn't know anything about him or his family, or the North. It was a hard, harsh adjustment. The North can be a cruel place and I want better for you. The south will be _better_."

Evelyne turned to look at her mother this time as she grabbed a new arrow, "I'm from the North mother. I'm harder than you. Stronger than you. The North is not _cruel_ to me. It's beautiful."

"Is it the Stark boy?" her mother asked as Evelyne nocked the arrow and released it in quick, successive movements. "Is he what's holding you back from saying yes to this Lannister betrothal?"

"I belong in the North," Evelyne answered.

Her mother sighed, she moved from behind Evelyne to sit on a bench near the target Evelyne was shooting at so that the girl was forced to look at her. "Your father and Lord Stark have been trying to reach an agreement for almost a year," she told her daughter. "A year that your father could have spent finding you someone different. Lord Stark is most focused on Brandon's betrothal and marriage to Catelyn Tully. An agreement about you and Ned might not happen until after _they_ are married."

"I can wait," Evelyne told her mother. "Winters have taught me to be patient."

"I don't want you to have to wait, sweetling," her mother told her. "I want the very best for you." She paused, her eyes softening as she watched her daughter, "I gave birth to three boys," her mother told her. "Three boys when all I wanted was a girl. A sweet, soft, gentle little girl. After Asher I had given up hope that I would ever have one. And then one night I had a dream that I would birth a daughter with a voice like summer rain. Almost a year later, I had you. My perfect little contradiction of a girl. A girl with fire in her hair and ice in her eyes. One with a voice like summer rain and a temper like a winter storm. A girl with skin like silk and iron for bones. The first time I held you I knew that you were perfect. And I knew exactly what I wanted for you - the best of everything. The Lannisters will be able to give that to you."

"Will they?" Evelyne asked, arching her eyebrows at her mother.

Her mother nodded, "The best life, the best gowns, the best jewels. Evelyne you would have better jewels than the queen."

"Would I?" Evelyne asked her mother. "Good thing I care about things like that." She sighed and shook her head, before she turned to bring her bow and arrows back to the armory, "Tell Father no, please."

* * *

Author's Note:

What? Oh this chapter was fun. Perhaps even more fun than the last one.  
I think I like each successive chapter more than the last. And that's a problem, because eventually I will reach my peak and the chapters won't get better, they will level out. And then I will be sad.  
(That is ... if they don't plummet and become bad ... fingers crossed that they won't do that.)  
Anyway ... I'm completely done tooting my own horn now. Your turn!  
Kidding. Though I would love to hear your thoughts. What did you think of this chapter? Head down to that wonderful little box down there and tell me! I'll be happy to read (and respond).

 _The Mikaelson Cupcake:_ Thank you! I'm glad that you're enjoying the story so far. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter too. Full disclosure ... I almost had them kiss in the last chapter. _Almost_. And then I decided it was too early. So I had her storm off instead.

 _Melmela_ : Your reviews always make me so happy! Really. I smile from ear to ear every time I read them. I don't know what King Mida is, but it sounds like a good thing! So I'm super happy about that.  
I'm very happy that you love this story even though it's still early days. And yes! I played everyone. If it makes you feel any better, in the first draft they did kiss. And then I changed it. They weren't ready for that yet. But they'll get there.  
I hope you liked this chapter!

 _jasdeep mehndiratta_ : You get a little bit of Jaime's response in this chapter. A mix of anger, disbelief, and complete enchantment (though he doesn't want to admit that yet). I hope you enjoyed it!

 _Tom_ : She is. A complete bitch! And I love it.

 _Jennifer_ : Thank you! I'm happy that you enjoyed it and I hope that this chapter was just as good!

 _Jaimefan_ : Thank you, dear. I'm glad you like them. I've been having a lot of fun with the two of them. Evelyne isn't as much of a badass as my OC in my other GoT story, but if she's gain and keep Jaime's attention, she's got to be smart, and witty, and sometimes a sarcastic bitch

 _Jd_ : You read it twice? That makes me ridiculously happy. Thank you for your review! (I hope that you enjoy this chapter enough that you read it twice as well!)

 _Sakura1607_ : Hello new reviewer! Thank you for stopping by and reading! And thank you twice for reviewing! I'm glad that when you decided to look at a Jaime Lannister pairing you ended up here! Lucky me!  
He does like his sister, but as evidenced by this chapter he likes her a bit less now. He will, most definitely, end up picking Evelyne. And I suppose she might choose him, though it breaks my Ned Stark loving heart to do it.

 _Starrside_ : Your wish is granted my dear! Now you get to see Jaime's response! I hope that you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for taking the time to review!

That's all I've got for now. You guys are wonderful. I'm going to hang out on my couch for the rest of the evening and teach my new kittens about why we love the Cavs.  
In case you are curious the score as of this second is 112 - 66, Cavs. Kingslayer and Seven of Nine seem to be good luck (though that might be Kingslayer's Cavs bow tie that's attached to his collar).  
Fingers crossed that the luck carries for the remaining 8 minutes of the 4th quarter.  
See you back here soon!  
Chloe Jane.


	7. Chapter Seven: Yours

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

 _Chapter Seven: Yours_

His father must have thought that Jaime loved the girl. That was the only reason that he would have stopped the arrangements with Lysa Tully and written to Lord Forrester. It was also the only explanation for why he left King's Landing and traveled to Casterly Rock when he received word from Ironrath. Only the belief that his son was in love with the girl would have kept him from relaying her rejection by raven.

Though he wasn't particularly gentle with his son when he gave him the news. Jaime was practicing sword play with members of the Lannister Red Guard in the tilt yard when Tywin approached. The guards saw his father before he did and read the rage on his face because they quickly stepped away from Jaime and made themselves scarce.

Jaime turned and smiled when he saw his father. "Hello Father," he greeted. "Have you heard back from Lord Forrester already?" He was so confident that the answer would be a favorable one that he didn't even think to be nervous. "When will Lady Evelyne be traveling to the Rock?" Normally weddings were held at the bride's family seat, but when a woman married a Lannister of Casterly Rock she came to the Rock.

Tywin Lannister did not smile. In fact, he glared at his son. "Next time I put an end to a guaranteed betrothal I hope that my son will be certain that the House will agree to the match."

Jaime's jaw dropped, "Lord Forrester said no to the match?" he asked.

"No," Tywin correct him, " _Evelyne Forrester_ said no to the match."

Jaime chuckled in spite of himself and shook his head, "The minx," he muttered.

Tywin arched an eyebrow at him, unamused, "You don't seem surprised," he deadpanned.

Jaime shrugged his shoulders, "She may have said something our last night at Crakehall."

" _Something_?" Tywin echoed.

Jaime nodded, "That she did not want to marry me."

Tywin chuckled, though it was a dark, rueful sound. "And you thought that meant that you should give up on a guaranteed match to ask _this_ woman to marry you?" He shook his head, "What possessed you, Jaime? You must love the girl."

Jaime shook his head. _Love_ was a powerful word, one that he could not use when talking about Evelyne Forrester, one that he _should_ not use about Cersei. "I don't know, Father."

"Then why her?" Tywin pressed.

"She's the only woman who doesn't bore me," Jaime admitted to him. "The first woman I have ever met who does not simper and smile because I'm a Lannister. I believe, she's the only woman who, if I could ever persuade her to care for me, it would be because she cared for _me_ not what I could give her."

Tywin smiled, a _real_ smile. Jaime could not remember the last time his father had smiled a real smile. Probably before his mother died. "That was how I felt about your mother," his father told him. Tywin shook his head, "She must be beautiful."

Jaime nodded, "The most beautiful woman I've laid eyes on."

Tywin nodded. "But she rejects you. Do you still want the match?" Jaime nodded, surprised at how much he _did_. Tywin sighed, "She is beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; she is a woman, therefore to be won."

"What?" Jaime asked, raising his eyebrows.

"If you want her and she does not want you, you must woo her. It is not enough to be a Lannister. You must win her over, you must make her feel special. Make her realize that she is all you want."

...

His father told him to woo her so he would. The only way he could think of.

 _Lady Evelyne,  
_ _You are not my second choice. Let me start by saying that. I know that you don't believe me, I know that you won't want to. So I will say it again. I will say it a thousand times if I must. You are not my second choice.  
_ _I will not say I love you. We both know that it isn't true.  
_ _But I will promise, you are not my second choice.  
_ _You never could be.  
_ _Sincerely yours,  
_ _Jaime Lannister._

 _..._

He wrote her a letter. She could not believe it when the maester brought it to her. She was sure that it was her brothers, that they were playing a prank on her. But when she broke the seal and read the letter it could only be from Jaime.

She would not write back.

She could not write back.

For three days the letter sat unattended on her desk. On the fourth day she stormed over to her desk, fully intending to burn the damned thing so that she wouldn't have to glare at it anymore. But instead found herself sitting at her desk and picking up a quill.

 _Ser Jaime,  
_ _How long did it take you to come up with that lie?  
_ _Of course you do not love me. And of course I am not your second choice. Because that would imply that I am in any way yours.  
_ _Did I not make it clear after the feast? I do not want any part of your plans.  
_ _I have a feeling that you have never been sincere a day in your life. And it is just as unlikely that you will ever be mine.  
_ _All the best, regardless,  
_ _Evelyne Forrester._

 _..._

 _Lady Evelyne,  
_ _You wound me, my Lady! Especially because it did take me some time to write that letter. Not because I had to think up a lie. But because I have trouble writing.  
_ _Since I was a young boy I had difficulty with reading and writing. My brain would transpose the letters. It does so even now.  
_ _I must check and recheck every word I write to you, my Lady.  
_ _That is how great my devotion is for you.  
_ _I have also been stubborn since I was a young boy, as you well know. You made your thoughts on me perfectly clear after the feast, but as ever I will need to hear it once more.  
_ _And sincerity may be a new concept to me, but with you I'm willing to jump in feet first.  
_ _Waiting for you to write again,  
_ _Jaime._

...

 _Ser Jaime,  
_ _Gods! I apologize! I would never have been so cruel if I had known that you had such trouble. If it's true and writing to me is so difficult, you should stop. I would hate for you to go though so much trouble for me.  
_ _You're willing to be sincere with me? I find that hard to believe as when I read your words they seem to be tinted with sarcasm rather than sincerity. Pray, tell me, how do you truly feel?  
_ _And don't speak of devotion. You don't know the meaning of the word. Unless, of course, you're talking about your sword.  
_ _Or your precious desire to join the Kingsguard.  
_ _When will that happen? I'm sure that you can't wait to put on your white cloak.  
_ _Warmly,  
_ _Evelyne._

...

 _Evelyne,  
_ _It's no trouble at all, my Lady, I would write you a letter every day if I thought I had anything worthwhile to write.  
_ _I suppose you know what devotion is, do you? You're devoted to Ned Stark, aren't you? Even though he does not feel the same for you? I may have never felt devotion or love, but I have seen it. I know what it looks like. You think you won't get devotion from me, but I know you won't get devotion from Stark.  
_ _He won't be able to provide you with what you need.  
_ _As for the Kingsguard. I won't be putting on the white cloak. I am still hoping that the next time my father writes to your father you will accept the offer.  
_ _Warmly? Why don't you tell the truth? You should have signed your letter "coldly" or "frigidly". That would be much more accurate.  
_ _Still yours,  
_ _Jaime._

...

 _SER Jaime_ ,  
 _I suppose that you're about to tell me that you know what I need. That you will be able to provide me with what I need and want. I'm sure it's the Lannister in you. Your House has never met a person they can't buy. Well, go ahead, Ser, tell me. What do I need? I await your answer with bated breath.  
_ _As for my response to your father's letter ... can you truly say you were surprised? Did I leave you at Crakehall with the idea that you could do anything that would make me want you? If I did, I apologize, that was never my intention. Never.  
_ _Are you sure that you're not joining the Kingsguard because you haven't been asked to? Please don't use me as an excuse for your failure.  
_ _Snowflakes and wind,  
_ _LADY Evelyne._

...

 _MINX,  
_ _You want to be wanted. You want to be desired. You want to be loved. You want to be someone's first choice. But Ned Stark will never want you. He will never desire you. He will never love you. He's not capable of it. He's not built for it.  
_ _You want a man and he is a wall.  
_ _You want fire and flames and he is snow and ice.  
_ _You need the sun and he is nothing but grey skies and clouds.  
_ _Ned Stark is not what you want. And you will regret it if you ever become his lady.  
_ _There may not be love between us. There may not even be respect as far as you're concerned. But there would be passion. You felt it, you can't deny that.  
_ _I would never blame my failures on you, Evelyne. I have not received a summons from the king to join the Kingsguard. But even if I did, I would turn it down if you would be my wife.  
_ _Yours, very truly and devoted,  
_ _Jaime._

...

 _Ser Jaime,  
_ _You never give up do you? Very well, perhaps I do want all of those things. And perhaps Ned Stark will not be the one to give them to me. But neither will you.  
_ _You're not the only stubborn one in this pair. Stubborn is a quality that we northerners understand very well.  
_ _Have you ever been in the North, Jaime? My brothers and I were discussing it on the way to the tournament at Crakehall. You southerners think that the snow and the cold and the grey are all there is to know about the North. But you're so wrong.  
_ _The Wolfswood is cold and dark and grey. The southerners say it's dangerous. But it's also beautiful. It's where I learned to ride. And where my brothers taught me to hunt. Our own ironwood forest is on the northwestern edge of the forest.  
_ _And the wolves that everyone is so afraid of? Their calls have been my lullabies since I was a young girl. I won't live without them now.  
_ _I am a Lady, but I will never be your Lady,  
_ _Evelyne._

...

 _Evelyne,  
_ _No, my Lady, I never give up. You can say what you want. You can say that you will never marry me, but you continue to write to me. You like me, you just don't want to admit it. You're a stubborn minx, full of fire.  
_ _I will not give up on you now.  
_ _I have never been to the North. But I would come for you. I would visit for you. I want to see your Wolfswood. I want to see the beauty you describe. I want to ride down all of your familiar trails and hear all your childhood stories. I want to hear the wolves singing to the moon.  
_ _And then I want to bring you south. I want to show you the beauty that the rest of the country has to offer. You've never been anywhere but the North and now Crakehall. I would show you everything. Every corner of the Seven Kingdoms if you'd have it. The Vale, King's Landing, the Reach, and finally the Rock.  
_ _You say you will never live without your wolves, but would a lion's roar make a suitable replacement? We have lions here at Casterly Rock.  
_ _Sunshine and warmth,  
_ _Jaime._

...

 _Jaime,  
_ _You are more than welcome to travel north, Ser. You are even more than welcome to visit Ironrath. My brothers would love to practice sword play with you. My mother would have so many questions about her southern acquaintances. My father would find it amusing that you traveled all the way to our humble keep just to have me reject you in person.  
_ _But if I were you I would not ride into the Wolfswood with me. I am more like to leave you there, lost and alone, than I would to show you all my familiar trails and tell you all my childhood stories.  
_ _Though your proposal to travel to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms is interesting. As much as I love the North. As sure as I am that I will never move from it. There is an awful lot of wonder to the Seven Kingdoms, and I've seen so very little of it. And so, it is a shame, truly, that the offer comes from you. Otherwise I might accept it in a heartbeat.  
_ _Tell me, I find myself very curious, would you visit Riverrun on your travels? You must be so eager to meet your beloved Lady Lysa. You must bring her when you come to Ironrath!  
_ _Respectfully yours,  
_ _Evelyne._

...

 _Evelyne,  
_ _Far be it for me to correct you, my dear Lady, as I have never been to Ironrath and you have lived there your entire life. But I find it hard to believe that your keep could ever be humble.  
_ _People take after their homes, you see. For example Casterly Rock is grand and imposing and is much more than meets the eye. It produces gold and Lannisters have golden hair. The Red Keep is built on the tallest hill in King's Landing, looking over the city as a King looks over his people. It is built of red rock to remind people of the fire and blood the Targaryens built their House on. Winterfell is cold and detached, there is a magic about it, I've heard. But I've also heard that it looks impenetrable, much like Ned Stark's heart.  
_ _And that brings us to Ironrath. I find it hard to believe that your keep is humble. When such a vibrant, opinionated, and lively girl grew up in its halls. Strong, beautiful, proud? I believe all of those. But humble? Not for a moment.  
_ _Your mother is from the south? That is news to me! What House?  
_ _Yours faithfully,  
_ _J._

 _postscript - "Respectfully yours"? Have you ever been respectful a day in your life?_

...

 _Jaime,  
_ _Perhaps you are right. Perhaps Ironrath is not humble. I have heard it told that it is the most beautiful keep in the North. That even the Starks of Winterfell are envious of it. And why shouldn't they be? It was built of ironwood hundreds of years ago and still stands.  
_ _Tell me more about Casterly Rock. I've heard that it's a mountain, or a seaside cliff more than a castle. So which is it? A castle or a cliff? And do you truly have lions caged inside your halls? I will say this, they say that lions are more powerful than wolves, but I have never seen a wolf in a menagerie.  
_ _Do you have a godswood?  
_ _What is your favorite thing about your home?  
_ _When will you bring Lady Lysa to see it? What will be her favorite part of her new home, I wonder.  
_ _My mother was of House Branfield. A lesser House in the south, one I'm sure the mighty Lannisters have never heard of. But they're a proud House, and she loved the south. And if it makes you feel any better about your betrothal offer, she wanted me to agree so badly.  
_ _I suppose I broke her hear when I rejected you. And yours as well, the way you tell it.  
_ _Yours,  
_ _E._

 _postscript - of course I have been respectful. Just because you have never seen it does not mean that it has never happened._

...

 _Evelyne,  
_ _Oh you poor creature. You've done it now. Everyone knows that you should never ask a Lannister about Casterly Rock. You will never hear the end of it. I shall wax poetic for hours.  
_ _Casterly Rock is both a castle and a cliff. Or rather, a castle carved into a cliff. It is one of the tallest castles in the Seven Kingdoms. The ringfort at the top of our rock is in the clouds. You say that your northerners find beauty in the clouds. If that is the case then you would be quite at home at the top of the keep. From West to East the Rock stretches almost two leagues. It would take you months, perhaps even years, to discover every room and every secret the Lannister House Seat has to offer.  
_ _The entrance to the Rock is called the Lion's Mouth. It is a large cavern that arches two hundred feet high and is wide enough for twenty horsemen to ride abreast through it and to the stables. As you can probably rightfully imagine there are large, stone lion's guarding the cavern.  
_ _We Lannisters, love our lions.  
_ _Once you enter the Rock, the cliffs are riddled with tunnels, dungeons, barracks, halls, stables, courtyards, and gardens. To answer your question in a word, yes. We have a Godswood, though it is a pathetic thing. You will be disappointed. My ancestors did not place the Godswood in a place that gets adequate light. Our weirwood is a queer, twisted thing. It's roots have tangled and all but filled its cave. It allows for nothing else to grow there.  
_ _We have hundreds of staircases, but if your legs ever grow tired of climbing there is also a series of lifts that carry people from floor to floor as needed.  
_ _My favorite thing about the Rock? The cliffs. When I was a child I used to jump from the cliffs to the water below. My father would have killed me if I had ever been caught. And I gave Cersei a fright on more than one occasion. But there was a freedom in the flight that I have never found anywhere else.  
_ _That is all I will tell you for now. Have I intrigued you, my Lady? Say the word and I will bring you to the Rock so that you may see it all for yourself.  
_ _You need not worry about Lady Lysa, you seem so interested in her after all. My father put an end to any marriage arrangements between myself and a Tully girl when he wrote to your father. You could reject me a thousand times and I would still never marry Lysa Tully.  
_ _It will be you or no one, I am afraid.  
_ _I remain, ever yours,  
_ _J._

...

 _Jaime,  
_ _Casterly Rock seems a cold and dark place to live. You mentioned balconies, but if it is a seaside cliff and stretches two leagues west to east I can only imagine that there are few rooms with natural light. Do you have windows there?  
_ _I suppose the cold and dark would be familiar enough to someone from the North. Though I cannot imagine the point of having a castle by the sea if you cannot, in fact, see the sea.  
_ _I must tell you that I am more intrigued than I would like to admit. You captured my interest with the promise that it would take months, or years, to discover all the chambers and secrets of the Rock. If there's one thing I love more than rejecting you it is an adventure. The way you tell it, the Rock would be full of adventures.  
_ _Including, but not limited to jumping from the cliffs. Would you take me?  
_ _I must say that I am surprised that your father put an end to a guaranteed match in favor of playing the odds with me. What did you tell him? From what little I have heard of Tywin Lannister up here, he does not seem the type to make such a foolish decision. You must have said something that swayed him. Was it his mind or his heart or his greed that you touched on, I wonder.  
_ _And what was his response when he read my rejection?  
_ _I cannot imagine that it was particularly favorable on my part.  
_ _I pose you all these questions, though I am sure that I will not receive answers. At least not from a raven. I leave within the fortnight with my brothers to travel to Oldtown for the tournament there. I trust that you will be there as well. Another chance to impress the Kingsguard, perhaps?  
_ _Yours,  
_ _E._

* * *

Author's Note:

So this chapter was a bit shorter than the ones that came before it. But I like it that way. The letters were fun to write. And we were able to get some serious interaction even though Jaime and Lenora are thousands of leagues apart.  
In the next chapter I'll be bringing them back together!  
I also liked the letters because if you think about it, they were spread out, weeks apart. And you can see in them, a kind of slow thawing as far as Evelyne is concerned. She may still not be willing to marry Jaime, but she clearly does not hate him. She is not angry with him anymore.  
She would not write to him if she were.  
Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter as much as I did.  
Thank you for taking the time to read. Thank you for adding this story to your favorites or alerts list. And thank you for all the reviews! Those mean a lot!  
You guys are wonderful!

 _Mikaelsoncupcake:_ Thank you for your review! I'm so glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you liked this chapter too! I loved that Jaime rode to King's Landing to talk to his father as well. He thinks that he did it because he is so determined to not marry Lysa Tully. And his father thinks it was because he was in love with Evelyne. The truth is somewhere in the middle, a little of both, though Jaime isn't quite ready to admit it yet.  
Lady Fuzz! That is a wonderful name!

 _HPuni101:_ Thank you for your review friend! At the moment the Lannisters are determined to make this marriage happen, even if it will take some time to _woo_ Evelyne into accepting it. Everyone knows that Tywin has a bit of a soft spot for his son, and in the books you get a few glimpses of how much Tywin loved his wife. So when he heard Jaime describe Evelyne in a way reminiscent of how he felt about Joanna I think he became more sure that it was a good match. At least that is my justification for him breaking the arrangement with the Tullys. Hopefully it is not too out of character for him.

 _Melmela_ : Ah! I know King Midas! Okay, I get it now! Thank you! That's a HUGE compliment. I'm so glad that you enjoyed the last chapter! And I am still smiling at the fact that you quoted it to me! I honestly love when people quote my story back to me, it means something really stuck with them and that's my favorite thing.  
I'm happy that you approve of my choice to have Evelyne reject both Jaime's kiss and proposal. It's too early. If she were to say yes now there would be no story. We're in it for a long haul with this one, perhaps not as long as HHNF, but a long haul all the same.  
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

 _Jennifer:_ As I explained to HPuni101, I think Tywin might have taken Evelyne's refusal as an insult if Jaime had not explained why he wanted to marry her the way he did. In _A Storm of Swords_ there's a quote that I'm about to bastardize that says that Tywin Lannister controlled the Mad King, but that only _Joanna Lannister_ controlled Tywin. So when he heard Jaime talk about Evelyne the way he did he understood why his son wanted her despite, and perhaps because of, her refusal. If Evelyne makes Jaime wait too long he might not look as favorably on the match, but for now he is content with the belief that his son will make her love him.

 _jasdeep mehndiratta_ : Thank you! I'm glad that you find it interesting. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well and that it was worth the wait!

 _jd_ : oh that's sad to hear, especially since I love my other story. But then again, it was my entry into the world of GoT fanfiction. So I'll always love it for that. Without it I would never have been confident enough to branch out into this story. Which is a good thing that I did! I'm glad you're enjoying this story though!

 _Jaimefan_ : Thank you dear! I hope that this chapter was equally amazing!

 _Guest_ : You're welcome for responding to your review on chapter four. I figure that if you guys are going to take the time to review the story, I can take a few minutes to respond. I'm happy that I have managed to keep you surprised and on your toes with the recent developments in the story. I love the freedom I have in this story and I'm enjoying playing around with it.  
As far as Tywin agreeing to the match so quickly even though a match with the Tully's would have been more favorable. Is in part because Jaime rode to King's Landing to tell him his intentions. As hard as Tywin Lannister is, I believe he loves his children, at least the first two and especially Jaime. If Jaime was truly against a match with Lysa Tully I don't think his father would have been able to persuade him and I think Tywin knows that.  
Plus Evelyne's dowry would probably include some ironwood which is a sought after resource, and would make an ally in the North, something Tywin does not have at the moment.

 _Dexter_ : Thank you! I hope you enjoyed this update as well!

 _Starrside_ : Yes, Jaime wants to marry her, but she is still not convinced about him. That will take a while.

lilnightmare17 _:_ Thank you new reviewer! I'm glad that you're enjoying the story so far and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

 _Sakura1607_ : Oh my Daryl story! I used to have three, but I completely ran out of steam on two of them and so they were deleted. But I'm glad that one of the three brought you here. Is it the one that is still posted? I might write more Daryl/OC in the future, but it's been so long since I've seen Walking Dead that it would take me a while to get back to writing for it. (My husband and I like to watch shows together, and he has a lot of catching up to do before we can catch up on the two seasons that I have missed.)  
A Ned Stark fanfiction though, there's a thought!

 _caseylu_ : I'm glad you're enjoying this story so far! Yes, loving the Cavs is an important rule in my house. Even for the animals. There is no shortage of love for the King, I explained it in a chapter of my other GoT story, but I'm originally from Cleveland and when I was a kid my dad used to take me out of school early to drive down to Akron to watch LeBron play on his high school team. So my love of LeBron James started _early_. Last Tuesday's game was amazing for Kyrie! We owe him for that! And K Love, I really shouldn't talk because I am 5'3" and have very little game as far as basketball is concerned, but I just wish he would find his stride earlier in games. He's really good once he's warmed up that just takes some time.  
I also have a soft spot for Korver. Full discloser there.

 _shika93_ : Thank you dear! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

That's all I've got for now dears! See you back here soon!  
In the spirit of the letters in this chapter ...  
Yours,  
Chloe Jane.


	8. Chapter Eight: Three Questions

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

So the husband and I got really sunburnt on memorial day (him a bit more than me). And now our skin is peeling. Lucky me, by the time I'm back at work on Monday it will be done, he has to work this week ... looking like his skin is falling off. Anyway, last night we were laying on the couch having a competition to see who could peel the biggest strip of peeling skin.  
It's a bit gross. But go find a love that will do that with you!

* * *

 _Chapter Eight: Three Questions, Three Answers_

The minx and her brothers made it to Oldtown before he did. When he first arrived at the camp that surrounded Hightower he asked after her brothers, thinking that perhaps someone would at least know when they might arrive. Instead of getting a guess, the squire he asked directed him toward a group of dark green tents set up toward the outer edge of the camp.

He smiled to himself when he realized these pavilions were set up as close as possible to the castle's Godswood. Northerners were nothing if not predictable, it would seem. He found her holding court again, just as she had at Crakehall. Some of the faces were familiar, though some were new. Cersei had not come to this tournament, but she would be upset to learn that Lady Evelyne Forrester was still a bit of a novelty.

She was turned away from him, her red hair shining in the sun as she listened to the Greatjon tell a bawdy joke. A polite, southern lady would not have even smiled at the punchline but Evelyne did more than simply smile. She threw her head back and laughed, her curls dancing down her back in waves of fire.

She still did not notice him. But the Stark girl did. Her grey eyes widened when she caught sight of him and she stood up, working her way through the group so that she could sit beside her redheaded friend. Jaime wondered if Evelyne had told the girl about his proposal. He hoped that she had enough respect for his pride to keep from humiliating him.

And he held onto that hope as the girl whispered something in Evelyne's ear. But then the hope extinguished the moment Evelyne and the girl started to giggle before the Forrester girl turned her head so that her blue-eyed gaze could land on him. He thought she might ignore him at first, but with a smirk in Lyanna Stark's direction Evelyne spoke, "Ser Jaime Lannister," she greeted him. She turned toward the men in the group. "We have a champion in our midst, Sers," she informed them.

The men turned to look at him, some seemed surprised and happy to see him, others were aloof, and still others were glaring at him - no doubt disappointed that they had not been singled out by the minx when they joined her group as he had.

"Ser Jaime won the tournament at Crakehall, no more than two moon turns ago," Evelyne informed them. "Though he made a most ill-advised choice when he crowned his Queen of Love and Beauty."

Robert Baratheon chuckled, a loud booming noise. "I heard the girl despised him," he added his own opinion to the story Evelyne was weaving. "Only danced one dance with him and left her flower crown in the dirt when she left."

"It was in the grass, to tell it true," Jaime corrected the Storm Lord. Most of the group would know that they were speaking about Evelyne, but the new members seemed confused and intrigued.

Evelyne smiled at him as if pleased that he remembered, "I wouldn't go as far as to say the Lady despised him, Lord Robert," she corrected the big Baratheon man. "Toward the end he grew on her a bit, like a fungus on a tree."

That set them off laughing. Jaime ground his teeth together. He did not mind when Evelyne teased him when they were alone or through her letters, but he did not enjoy being mocked by an entire group. He took a deep breath, attempting to quiet his annoyance before he looked at Evelyne again, "Lady Evelyne, I was hoping you would accompany me on a walk through the Godswood."

She was the one he posed the question to, but his eyes sought out Ned Stark. He wondered what the long-faced Stark's reaction to his question would be. He wondered if Evelyne or Lyanna had told Ned that he had proposed marriage to the girl. He wondered if Stark would be jealous.

If he knew about the proposal, he did not let on.

If he was jealous of the attention Evelyne was giving Jaime, he did not let on.

If he was angry when she agreed to walk with Jaime, he did not let on.

Evelyne's own blue eyes followed Jaime's gaze to Ned for a moment before she stood from her spot and moved closer to him. "I would have thought that you had enough of Godswoods after the last one you were in, Ser Jaime," she taunted him as she came to stand beside him.

He smirked down at her, "As always, I need at least one more," he told her. He bent slightly so that he could whisper in her ear, "One more walk in a Godswood. One more rejection. One more smile. Always _one more_."

He held out his arm to the lady so that he could guide her on their walk, but she did not take it. "Then you shall have them," she told him before she very deliberately gathered her skirts in her left hand, the hand closest to him, and began to walk towards the woods.

He could hear her brothers laughing at them as he quickly followed her under the trees. He did not speak right away, he waited until they had found a path before he opened his mouth. Evelyne seemed content with the silence. She walked amongst the trees, a soft smile resting on her lips as she stopped every once in a while, pausing whenever they passed a tree or a flower that did not grow in the North.

"For a girl who is so sure that she is going to spend the rest of her life near the Wolfswood, you seem to enjoy the southern plants," Jaime observed as the moved onto the path.

"For a man who is such a proud, Lannister lion, _you_ seem to be set on being rejected _again_ ," Evelyne fired back. But there wasn't too much bite to her words. They were softened by the smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Jaime chuckled, "And who says that I am going to ask you again, my Lady?" he asked her.

She shrugged her shoulders, "You want things you can't have. The way I see it I am one of a small number of women that you can't have." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, "You're still wearing riding clothes," she observed. "Did you just get here?"

Jaime cursed his impatience. He had set his squires on setting up his pavilion and he had been so impatient to see Evelyne that he had not changed before he sought her out. No doubt she would read more into it than he meant her to. She would think him distracted by love rather than annoyance.

"My squires had not unpacked my trunks yet," he told her, trying to force his voice to sound disinterested. "After such a long ride I wanted to walk and I did not want to wait until I could change out of my riding clothes." He paused, looking down at her and narrowing his eyes playfully, "I did not rush to see you, Lady Evelyne, I assure you."

She laughed, a light musical sound that Jaime could hear over and over again and he was sure that he would never tire of it. "I did not think that until you said it, Ser Jaime," she teased. "But whether you meant to seek me out or not it does not matter. You found me. What will you do with me now?"

Jaime's eyebrows knit together in confusion. He wondered if she was deliberately flirting with him. Her last question was suggestive enough without the smirk she sent his way once she'd asked it. Whatever she was doing, she was well aware of it. "I wonder how old Ned feels about his betrothed walking through the Godswood with the likes of me," Jaime said instead, changing the subject.

Evelyne glanced down, a light pink blush covering her cheek bones, "I don't know if he has much of an opinion," she admitted to him in a voice just above a whisper. "And I certainly wouldn't ask him."

"He doesn't know?" Jaime asked, surprised be the information. Evelyne turned to look at him, raising one eyebrow in a silent request for clarification. "He doesn't know that I asked for your hand?" Jaime clarified.

Evelyne shrugged one of her shoulders, "I don't know," she told him, pursing her lips. "I didn't tell him, though I did tell Lyanna. What she told him only the Gods know."

"Either way it's bad news for you," Jaime told her.

"Bad news?" Evelyne echoed back. "I don't understand."

"If you told Lyanna and she did not tell Ned then even your friend, his _sister,_ does not think that the betrothal with her brother will turn into a marriage," Jaime explained to her. "And if you told her and she told Ned and he _still_ let you stroll through the Godswood with _me_ then he will never care for you the way a husband should care for his wife."

He didn't add it, but his tone spoke volumes. It spoke of the words _I told you so_ , that would have fit in so well at the end of his statement.

Evelyne's blush had darkened. It was no longer a pink, but a red like her hair blazing its way over her cheeks and down her neck. "Whichever it is, it is no concern of yours. I'm sure your own betrothed would mislike you walking through the woods with me. Shall we ask her? I hear even the Tully girls have come to this tournament with their younger brother."

Jaime chuckled, she was trying to change the subject as he had. But he was not as kind as she was. He would not allow it. "I told you in one of my letters that I am no longer to be betrothed to Lady Lysa, it is _you_ or no one, Evelyne."

"Then perhaps you should join the faith and become a Septon if the Kingsguard will not accept you. Or, while we're here in Old Town, join the Maester guild. Because you shall not have me."

"No?" he asked, arching one of his eyebrows. "Then correct me if I am wrong, but did you not ask in your latest letter if I would take you jumping off the cliffs at Casterly Rock. Far be it for me to try to understand the inner workings of a Lady's mind, but that seemed almost a welcoming of my advances."

"It was no such thing," Evelyne snapped at him, going as far as to reach out and slap his arm. The slap was hard enough to sting, but light enough not to anger him. He wondered how many times she had slapped her brothers with the same amount of force. She was quiet for a moment before she spoke, "So you received my last raven before you rode to Old Town?" she asked.

He nodded, smiling.

She stared at him expectantly, "Well?" she asked.

"Well, what?" Jaime asked back, mocking her impatience.

"Are you going to answer my other questions?"

"You'll have to remind me of what they are, my Lady," Jaime teased as they moved onto a different path, moving further into the wood.

"If you were as devoted to me as you said in your letters I would not have to remind you," Evelyne bit out. But a moment later she sighed, "I asked you three questions. Would you take me jumping off your cliffs? What you said to your father that swayed him to ask my father for a marriage arrangement? And how did he take my rejection? Three simple questions."

Jaime nodded, "Aye," he agreed, "they are simple enough."

"Then you will answer them?" Evelyne asked.

Jaime smirked at her, an idea forming in his mind. "Three questions you asked me, my Lady, and three answers I will give you. But on one condition."

"What condition?" Evelyne deadpanned, no doubt thinking that he was up to some sort of mischief.

"During the tournament I will approach you three times either to give you my favor or to ask for your own. If you refuse, you lose a question. If I lose, you lose a question. But if you agree to my request and I win, I will answer."

She did not look like she particularly liked his condition. But she was as curious as she was stubborn. She stopped walking, "Fine," she told him, growling out the word before she stuck her hand out to him.

Jaime stared down at her hand, his eyebrows raised. "What are you doing?" he asked her.

"Shaking on our deal," Evelyne told him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "My brother's do it all the time."

Jaime snorted, he had never met a woman who shook hands on a deal. But he was not going to deny himself the chance to touch Evelyne, and to perhaps make her feel a bit uncomfortable. "As you say, my Lady," he told her, placing her hand in his.

She shook their hands up and down once before she began to pull away. But he tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her closer to him. He pulled with such force that her left hand flew to his chest to steady herself. She gasped. He smirked as he lifted her right hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against it.

This time when he let go she did not wipe her hand on her skirts.

It was progress.

And he would take what he could get.

-.-.-.-.-

Jaime's first ride in the lists did not occur until the next afternoon. Evelyne sat all morning in the stands watching lesser lordlings and hedge knights ride and ride and ride. She was no longer the girl at Seaguard, she knew what to expect from tournaments now. She was no longer surprised by the blood or the violence. She did not scream or yell. She sat like a proper lady, as if it were all rather boring.

That is until the first ride with a knight she recognized. Jaime would ride first against one of the Frey knights, it did not much matter which one, there were so many after all. As Jaime got situated on his horse, Evelyne wondered if he would be able to find her. She sat close to the front row of the stands, but there were stands on both sides of the lists.

She shouldn't have worried. His answers to her questions shouldn't have mattered to her. But she did. And for some reason, they did. But she had no need to worry, there were lots of maidens hoping Jaime Lannister would give them one of his flowers, but only one of them had flame red hair. She was easy enough to spot.

Once Jaime had his lion's head helm on, but lifted so that she could see his entire face, he rode forward, stopping in front of her section of stands. Evelyne smiled at him and seven started to stand from her seat when Jaime spoke, "Lady Lyanna," he called out, singling out her friend instead of her. "Would you take this rose?"

He was smirking, his green eyes sparkling as Evelyne dropped back into her seat and Lyanna looked uncertainly between the two of them before she stood up and accepted his offered crimson rose. It was a beautiful thing, she was not sure how they managed it, but the tips of each of the petals shone gold. Perhaps it had been dipped in a gold paint. Robert was unhappy on Lyanna's other side as the girl sat back down, smiling down at the rose.

"Calm yourself," Ned ordered his friend as Jaime rode away. "He does not want Lyanna, he means to tease Lady Evelyne. She wanted the rose."

Her friends turned to look at her, waiting for her to deny it. She couldn't, though she did not want the rose for the reason they assumed she wanted it. She shrugged her shoulders, "We have an agreement, Ser Jaime and I," she told them. "I asked him some questions and he agreed to answer them, but only if I accept his favor or give him my own and he wins his rides in the lists that round."

She explained it mostly for Ned's benefit, so that he would not think that she wanted Jaime instead of him. But it wouldn't have mattered much. He did not seem to care either way. It had not been jealousy in his voice when he said that she wanted the rose, and it was not relief in his eyes now. Jaime was right, Ned Stark would never want her.

Robert raised his eyebrows at her explanation, "Must have been some pretty important questions to make you want to give him your favor just to get the answers."

Evelyne nodded in spite of herself, "They are," she told him. _Though I don't know why_.

Jaime unhorsed the Frey knight in two and his round was over.

She had to wait five more rounds before his turn came again, this time against the strange red priest from Myr, Thoros he was called. He was normal enough in the lists, but Evelyne had heard that when he fought in the melee he fought with a flaming sword.

"He makes for an odd priest," Evelyne mused as he put on his red armor.

Ned nodded, "To hear him tell it he made a horrible priest in Myr so they sent him to Westeros to attempt to turn King Aerys away from the Seven and to his Fire God."

The northerners had no love for the Seven, they stuck to their Old Gods for the most part, but even Evelyne knew how hard it would be to sway the king's mind.

"I'm sure he thought it would be easy," Robert added, "The Targaryens and their fire, you know. But it has not worked yet."

"And in the meantime he has found a love of Dornish wines," Ned added.

Evelyne smiled at that, he seemed to be drinking some now. She was so interested in their conversation about the fighting priest that she did not notice when Jaime rode up in front of them again. She only turned when he called out her name, "Lady Evelyne." She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised, but made no move to stand up and walk toward him. He smiled at her, "Would you accept this rose?"

He held up another crimson rose, the petals sparkled gold at the tips. She stood from her seat and slowly approached him. "I see the way of it," she whispered as she held out her hand for the flower. "When I want you to approach me, you stay away. When I don't care, you give me your rose."

"Where would the fun be if I always did as you expected?" Jaime asked her, the gold in his eyes glinting in the sun. "Surely you should understand that. I enjoy you most when I have no idea what you plan to do next."

Evelyne smiled at him, holding the rose lightly in her hand. "I would drop this rose in the lists to be trampled by your horse if I did not want the answers to my questions," she told him.

Jaime laughed, she was sure this was the first time she had heard him laugh when he wasn't mocking her. It was a different kind of laugh, deep and full, from his chest. It made her smile, "I am surprised that you don't do it regardless, my Lady," he told her.

Then with a wink he lowered his helm and rode toward his end of the lists, ready to ride.

Evelyne sat back down in her seat, fidgeting with the rose in her hands as she waited. "Did you get an answer to one of your questions?" Lyanna asked her as the knights strapped their shields on and took their lances from their squires.

Evelyne shook her head, "He must win the round first. _Then_ I will get my answer."

The first ride he almost knocked the lance out of the red priest's hands.

The second ride the lances clashed together, though neither splintered.

The third ride the red priest got cocky, drank half a sack of wine before they started. With one good blow Jaime knocked him off his horse and the priest fell, vomiting before he hit the ground.

It was a sickening sight, but Evelyne smiled all the same. She would get at least one answer.

Jaime rode around the lists once, a victory lap before he returned to his starting point and climbed off his charger. He would ride no more that day. His squire began to take off his armor. Once he was free of it he looked up in the stands and caught Evelyne's eye. He smiled at her and nodded toward the path that led out of the tourney fields.

She let him squirm for a moment before she nodded.

She stood from her seat, "Please excuse me," she murmured to her companions.

Lyanna tried to stand up too, to accompany her, but Evelyne told her she would be fine on her own and to stay. "You'll miss the last rounds," one of the younger Crakehall knights warned her.

"And you can tell me how they end at supper tonight," Evelyne told him with a smile that was friendly enough to be considered flirting. She did not honestly care how they ended though, her brothers were done for the day. And so was Jaime.

He was waiting for her just past the stands. "Well met, Lady Evelyne," he told her as she approached. He was grinning at her, "I must thank you for the luck you gave me against the warrior priest."

Evelyne shook her head, "It is not your thanks I want, but answers."

Jaime chuckled and shook his head, "Stubborn and singleminded," he murmured. But he turned to her and offered her his arm. Evelyne hesitated for a moment before she placed her hand on his offered arm and allowed him to escort her up the path. "I will answer your first question," he announced after they had been walking for a few minutes. "What was it again, remind me?"

" _If_ I were ever to visit Casterly Rock, would you take me to jump off the cliffs?" Evelyne asked, amending her question slightly.

Jaime chuckled, he had caught her change, "I do not believe that was the exact phrasing of the question, but I will answer it anyway." He paused, just long enough for her to realize that his next words would be his answer. "Yes."

He said it so simply, so matter-of-factly. Evelyne raised her eyebrows. She wasn't sure why, but she had expected a more complicated answer than that. His simple _yes_ surprised her.

She smiled at him though, and nodded, "To new adventures then, Ser Jaime."

He smiled too, lifting her hand from his arm so that he could press a kiss against the back of it. She arched her right eyebrow, the knight was far too liberal with the way he touched her. He smirked, waiting for her to say something about it. When she didn't he lowered her hand back to his arm and nodded, "To _our_ new adventures, Lady Evelyne."

...

The next day she had more knights to watch. Both Asher and Rodrick rode in the morning as well as Robert Baratheon and Jaime Lannister. The Gods were good to Evelyne, Jaime did not ride against either of her brothers. And for that she was thankful. She knew enough of the Lannister knights teasing ways to know that if he rode against one of her brothers he would try to present one of his crimson and gold roses to her, testing not only her desire for the answers to her questions, but also her loyalty to her family.

He did, however, ride against Robert. The young Storm Lord was ready first, he presented his yellow rose to Lyanna. "No surprise there," Evelyne murmured as the man rode away.

Lyanna glanced at her friend, her eyebrows raised slightly, "What do you mean?" she whispered back.

Evelyne shrugged nonchalantly, "Only that I went looking for you in your pavilion after supper last night and you weren't there. Your handmaid said that she had received a note on your behalf while we supped and that after reading it you announced that you were going to go to the Godswood. If I had been of the mind of interrupting your secret meeting with Lord Robert, I might have followed you."

Lyanna's grey eyes flicked to her brother to make sure that he was not paying them attention, "You didn't, did you?" she asked, her voice rushed.

Evelyne studied her friend, "No?" she answered, her voice coming up at the end, making the word a question rather than a statement. "Though now I'm beginning to wonder if I should have. What would I have seen if I did, Lyanna?"

"Nothing!" Lyanna told her quickly, shaking her head. "Just promise me that you won't speak anymore about it. Especially not in front of Ned." Evelyne nodded her agreement though her friend still looked worried. A moment later Lyanna forced a smile on her face and sat up a bit taller, "Oh look!" she told Evelyne in a falsely bright tone. "Ser Jaime!"

He had ridden in front of her again, another crimson and gold tipped rose in his hand, "Lady Evelyne, would you accept this rose?" he asked her.

She smiled when she stood this time. Once she had taken the rose Jaime winked at her and rode away.

One the first ride Robert landed a glancing blow on the left shoulder of Jaime's gold plated armor, just barely making the blonde knight spin in his saddle. While Jaime stayed seated on his horse he did not have enough time to strike at Robert. The Storm Lord won the point for that round.

On the second ride Jaime's lance shot past Robert's and struck him in the chest, dead center. The crowd yelled their approval as bent back on his horse, squeezing his thighs tightly around the horse to stay seated. He remained on his horse, but his armor was dented and his chest would be bruised. The lion won that point.

On the third ride the riders' lances hit each other, the wood began to splinter, but it was Jaime's that struck true. At the last moment, no doubt when Robert thought it would be a tie, Jaime tilted his arm, his lance pushing under Robert's to strike him just inside his left shoulder and under his collarbone. Above his heart. Evelyne had heard her bothers talking enough to know that this was where all knights aimed during a joust. She watched as Robert twisted toward the left and back at the same time. There was so much force in Jaime's strike that he did not have time to tighten his legs. He fell from his horse. The last point went to Jaime.

They did not leave the tourney field early that day, it would draw too much attention. Too much suspicion. He met her in the Godswood before supper. He beat her to it, she found him leaning against a tree near the gate, waiting for her. "I believe I owe you an answer, Lady Evelyne," he told her by way of greeting.

Evelyne smiled at him, "I believe you do," she agreed. She did not hesitate when she placed her hand on his outstretched arm. They started to walk. "What did you say to persuade your father to set aside Lady Lysa for me?" she asked him. "Did you sway his mind? His heart? Or his greed?"

Jaime chuckled, "That is technically four questions, my Lady," he told her, holding up four fingers on his right hand. "I'm sure you can count."

"Then answer the first and I can guess at the second, third, and fourth."

Jaime chuckled, "You're clever, minx," he told her. He was quiet for a moment, thinking. She wondered if he would lie to her. Give her an answer that was both courteous and flirtatious. Something that a knight would be expected to say to a maiden, even if it wasn't the truth. He sighed, "I told him that you were the only woman I have ever met who does not bore me. I told him that _if_ I could ever persuade you to consent to marrying me it would be because you wanted to marry _me_ not because you wanted to marry a _Lannister_ and all that came with it."

Evelyne smiled, thinking back to when her mother had tried to change her mind by tempting her with all the gold and jewels she would receive as Lady of the Rock. She had told her mother that she did not care for such things and that had been the truth. She was pleased that Jaime knew that about her too.

Jaime continued, "I did not tell my father that when you laugh it sounds like music. And when we danced I forgot the steps to a dance I had known my whole like because I was too busy watching you. I did not tell him that your skin is as pale as the moon or that when you're happy your sparkle like the stars. I did not tell him any of those things, but he must have seen them in my face because he asked me if you were beautiful."

Evelyne scoffed quietly, turning away from him so that he could not see the blush that was rising on her cheeks from his words. So he was going with a flirtatious version of the truth, she did not doubt what he said what he told his father. She did doubt whether he believed any of it, "And pray, what did you tell him?" she asked.

"I told him that you were the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on," Jaime told her, looking away from her as if it were an obvious fact, rather than a ridiculous opinion. "He told me that was how he used to think of my mother."

Evelyne laughed, "So you touched his heart then?"

Jaime nodded, "Though the suggestion of getting control of a portion of your family's ironwood as part of your dowry probably did not hurt either."

"Heart and greed," Evelyne murmured, betting a better picture of Lord Tywin Lannister.

Jaime nodded, "Though I was all heart."

Evelyne scoffed, "I'm sure you were, Ser Jaime," her voice sounded too sarcastic, even to her own ears. "No one could ever doubt that."

Jaime raised his right hand to his heart, pretending to be wounded, "And to think, I was going to be a gentleman and answer your third question today, now you will have to wait until tomorrow."

Evelyne laughed as she removed her hand from his arm, "Assuming that you win tomorrow," she teased before she turned and walked out of the Godswood on her own, leaving Jaime on his own.

* * *

Author's Note:

Oh poor Jaime, he's laying it on thick and Evelyne is not buying any of it.  
Or maybe she is, and just won't admit it to herself. And perhaps Jaime means more of what he says than he is willing to admit to himself.  
We've got a stubborn pair here guys.  
A very stubborn pair.  
It would be a shame if a couple chapters down the road an author threw a wrench into the the mix wouldn't it?  
But I wouldn't do that would I?  
Anyway, hope that you enjoyed this chapter, it was a little longer than usual to make up for the fact that Monday's chapter was shorter than usual.  
Did you like it? If so, write a review. They make me happy! The box is waiting!  
If you didn't like it, then what are you still doing here? Get outta here! :p (Kidding ... sort of ...)  
Anyway, thank you to the lovely creatures who added this story to their favorites and alerts lists. You guys are wonderful.  
But even more wonderful are those who reviewed the last chapter! You guys are FANTASTIC.

 _Outlawwoman:_ I left it like that because I'm completely evil. Kidding, I left it like that because I wanted Jaime to answer her questions in person. I wanted _this_ chapter. So there could be no more letters. I'm glad that you're addicted though. And I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well!

 _DREAMLESSLY17:_ Hello! Thank you for your review! I'm glad that you love this story and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well.

 _jd_ : Only good? Oh no, I'm slipping. Kidding. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Fingers crossed that this chapter was enjoyable too!

 _The Mikaelson Cupcake:_ Thank you! I'm glad that you enjoyed the letters. They were a lot of fun to write, but I was worried that they weren't going to be enough. Writing an entire chapter as just letters between two characters was not something I had ever tried before. But it might be something that I try again. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

 _HPuni101:_ I'm glad he wasn't out of character. He's always so hard that it was entertaining and terrifying to write him a bit softer. As to what other tactics he may use ... there will be some Tywin/Evelyne interaction coming up in just a few chapters if things go the way I plan.

 _lilnightmare17_ : Thank you! I'm glad you liked it and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well. I think it was a fun one.

 _Guest_ : I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. That was the goal of the letters. Jaime was being flirtatious and _probably_ didn't mean half of what he said (at least he thinks so) but Evelyne's getting to know him. And while she won't admit it to herself, she likes him a bit. Perhaps not enough to say yes to him, but at least enough that she kept writing. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

 _EarthBorn93:_ I love Tywin because he's exactly as you describe. In the books/show he's all about protecting the family name and reputation often at the expense of the members of his family. But there are times, really brief flashes, where you can see that he does care for his children, at least as much as he will allow himself to. I personally think that he is so distant with them because he cared so much for Joanna and was hurt so much when she died that he won't let himself care for anyone else in that way anymore. But if he hand't lost her, he'd be a very different man. Still hard, still deadly, but more loving toward his children.

 _Sakura1607_ : Don't worry, I won't take that one down. One shots and completed stories are completely safe. It's the in progress ones that you need to watch out for. (Though I really shouldn't admit that in an _in progress_ story...) At the time I deleted the other Daryl stories I hadn't updated them in at least a year ... I had three in progress stories at once and I just ran out of steam, none of them were fun anymore. And I think that's when it's time to get rid of them. Obviously I devote quite a bit of time to these stories (at least I hope it's obvious) and when they're not fun anymore I don't really see the point in forcing myself to continue you know?  
But don't worry, I'm still having a lot of fun with this one! And thank you! that's a huge compliment. I'm glad you'll read anything I post as long as you know the characters. That's amazing!

That's all I've got for now guys! See you back here on probably Friday!  
Chloe Jane.


	9. Chapter Nine: Looked Like Freedom

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

 _Chapter Nine: Looked Like Freedom_

It was the last match up of the tournament. And try as he might Jaime could not hide the smile on his face as he climbed up into the saddle of his horse. He was so close to winning this tournament that he could almost taste it. Earlier in the week Evelyne had suggested that if he could not join the Kingsguard he should consider joining the Faith or the Maesters guild. Neither of those were particularly bad ideas, but Jaime would never be able to do it.

He was made to be a knight. He had known it on his seventh nameday when his father had put a blade in his hand and sent him off to learn how to use it.

He loved tournaments not simply because he loved to win, but because it seemed as if it was in his blood. He loved the smell of sweaty horses, dirt, blood. He loved the sound of lances clashing into each other and denting armor. He loved the soreness of his muscles after a day of riding in the lists. And yes, he loved winning as well.

The crowd was cheering loudly. It would be Jaime riding against one of Princess Elia's brothers. Oberyn Martell. They called the young prince the viper. And Jaime was prepared to show the young prince exactly what lions did to snakes.

He rode his horse once down the lists, making a show of deciding who he would ask for favor. Though everyone knew. He had heard their whispers, they knew that he would single out Lady Evelyne Forrester. He knew several men were placing bets on whether or not she would give him her favor.

She looked beautiful when he came to a stop in front of her. She was sitting next to Lyanna Stark again, both girls dressed in black. The black fabric of her dress made the red in her hair come alive. For a moment, when the wind stirred, it looked as though flames were streaming from her head.

She smiled at him as he held out his lance over the railing of the stands. "Lady Evelyne," he greeted her. "Would you do me the honor of giving me your favor?"

She stood up faster than he had expected, but she did not move to the railing right away. Her blue eyes darted to her right, glancing down the stands to where the two redheaded Tully girls sat. He could practically read her mind.

No matter how many times he had told her that he was no longer to be betrothed to Lysa Tully she was still worried that all the attention Jaime was giving her would upset the older woman. He smiled at her, meaning to be reassuring, "It's just you, Evelyne," he told her.

Her blue-eyed gaze landed on him and her eyes narrowed, "Incorrigible," she muttered as she moved down toward the railing.

"Am I being too forward again, my Lady?" he asked her, smirking.

"As always, Ser Knight," she countered. She was smirking too as she untied a strip of dark green velvet from around her wrist so that she could tie it around the tip of his lance. She did not look at him while she tied the knot. "They're going to think us in love," she whispered to him.

"They'd be half right," he told her.

She looked up at him sharply then and he winked at her. She pursed her lips to keep from smiling and shook her head. "Ride well, Ser Jaime," she told him, her voice little more than a whisper. "Strike true."

"And come back to you?" he asked her.

He was being too forward again, she was right, he was incorrigible. She did not scold him though, instead she nodded. "You still have one more question to answer after all."

"And I would hate to disappoint you," he told her, reaching up to lower his visor.

"Than don't," she commanded. She stood in front him for another a moment and then she nodded and turned to walk back to her seat.

He would not disappoint her, he decided as he rode back to his side of the lists, prepared to ride. Prince Oberyn nodded to him, lowering his own visor and Jaime's heartbeat picked up as he waited for the signal to start riding.

It always went like this during a tourney. His heartbeat would pick up, his breath would become shallow, but as soon as he started riding everything would slow down. It would seem to last forever as he rode down the length of the list, he would be able to study his opponent, he would be able to read them. Were they holding too tight to the horse? Too lose? What was the angle of their lance? Where would they strike him?

This ride was no different. They were given the signal, and even though he could hear the wind rushing past him as he rode toward Prince Oberyn it felt a lifetime before they reached each other. Oberyn rode with his lance held high until the last moment, he meant to give Jaime no hint as to where he would strike. He was fast, like the snake they named him after, but Jaime was faster. Before Oberyn could fully lower his lance Jaime had lowered his and trust it forward.

In his desperation to strike first he had miscalculated. It was a mistrike, not enough to knock the Dornishman off his horse. He hit the man in his stomach, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. He would win the point for this ride, but not knock the man to the ground.

The Dornish prince was laughing as they rode to the ends of the lists and turned again, preparing to ride again. Jaime did not know Prince Oberyn very well, but he appreciated the man's humor. _This_ was a man who loved the fight as much as Jaime did. Win or lose, he loved the fight.

The second ride his aim was worse. And Oberyn was faster. They both lowered their lances, a glancing blow as they slid against each other. Oberyn's lance hit Jaime's chest, causing Jaime to lean back, arching his chest toward the sky to stay seated on his horse. The arm holding the lance flew up and the tip of the lance caught Oberyn under his chin, sending his head craning back and knocking his helm off.

They both got a strike, but neither was enough for a point. Jaime was still in the lead.

But now he was worried. His aim seemed to be getting worse. And Oberyn seemed to be getting better. At the beginning of the first ride Jaime had been so sure that he would win, but now he thought he might lose.

Without lifting his helm he glanced toward the stands, unbidden his eyes sought out Evelyne Forrester. She was no longer sitting with her friends. Or even standing at her seat. She had moved down the stands and was standing at the railing, exactly where she had given him her favor. Her fists were clenched in worry and even from this distance he could make out her furrowed brow. She was worried about him.

As if she could feel his gaze on her she lifted her eyes to his helm covered face. She did not look away, she did not blush or drop her gaze. She remained there, stubbornly staring at him. Willing him to win.

He nodded once and adjusted his grip on the lance.

And then he was off one last time.

This was it. He urged his horse to ride faster than ever before. He dropped his lance, angling it across the wooden rail and toward the other rider. He kept his eyes focused tight on the green velvet tied around the tip of the lance and fluttering in the wind.

It was still fluttering in the wind a moment later when the lance crashed into the Dornishman's armor, hitting true, just under the right collarbone.

The armor was dented. The lance shattered. The rider twisted to the right and back. His arms flew in the air in a wild attempt to keep him balanced. But it was too little, too late. By the time Jaime had ridden to the end of the list and brought his horse to a stop, Prince Oberyn had fallen.

And Jaime Lannister was the victor.

The crowd was on its feet. Men were yelling, women were clapping, children cheered and danced. Money changed hands at wagers won. But, as if looking through a tunnel, the only thing that Jaime could see was _her_ smile.

She did not cheer. She did not dance. She did not even clap. But she smiled. And she nodded. There was enough approval in that nod to help him make one final decision. Once he had officially been declared the winner he was given another flower crown with which to name his queen of love and beauty.

He did not have to deliberate this time, he did not have to debate or wonder what his sister would think. He rode toward where she stood, confident. She was waiting for him, her lips turned up a bit at the corners in a soft smile. "Well done, Ser Jaime," she congratulated him when he reined his horse to a stop in front of her. "You had me worried for a moment."

He smiled at her, "You should learn to have more faith in me, Lady Evelyne," he scolded her playfully.

"I shall remember that the next time I see you ride."

He grinned at her, she was certainly more welcoming than she had been the tournament before. He held the flower crown up in his hands, "Would you do me the honor, Lady Evelyne?" he asked her.

She bit her bottom lip, as if debating. But it was for show. He knew she would accept. She had not remained standing by the railing to turn him down. "You know that you want to," he told her, his voice almost a song as he teased her. "Why deny yourself?"

She shook her head and for a split second he wondered if she really did mean to turn him down. But then she leaned closer to him, bowing her head so that it would be easier for him to put the crown on her head.

Once he was done she stood up straight, "What now, Ser?" she asked him.

If he were any other man he would have gone to change out of his armor. If she were any other woman she would have hoped that she might see him again before the wedding celebration. And that would have been it. But he was _not_ any other man. And she was _not_ any other woman. He took off his helm and dropped it, letting it fall to the ground beside his horse's hooves. His squire would pick it up later. "Would you like to go for a ride, my Lady?" he asked her.

Her eyebrows arched, "Now?" she asked him, glancing around to find the easiest way to leave the stands. There were stairs, but they were far away from where she now stood.

He nodded, holding a hand out to her. "Now," he confirmed.

She smirked at him, and her eyes sparkled as she slipped her hand in his. Then, she gathered her skirts in her left hand so that she would not trip over them and she climbed, first one foot and then the other onto the railing. Her grip tightened a bit on his hand as if she were afraid that she was going to fall.

But it was a stupid fear. Jaime would never allow that. He reached out his other hand for her elbow and carefully guided her over the railing and onto his horse. She sat sidesaddle in front of him and he wrapped his arms around her, under the pretense of grabbing the reins.

She smiled at the whispers behind them, "We've shocked them," she told him, turning to grin at him over her shoulder.

Jaime chuckled, "Let them be shocked then," he told her before he snapped the reins and sent the horse galloping away from the lists.

-.-.-.-.-

Evelyne did not want to admit how much she enjoyed riding with Jaime Lannister. But it was hard not to appreciate his arms wrapped around her, holding her perhaps a bit too close to his strong chest. His armor wasn't exactly comfortable, but he seemed to have a plan for that. After they rode from the lists he brought her to his pavilion where she stayed on his horse and he made quick work of taking off his armor inside the tent.

When he came out she thought he might climb on the horse behind her again. But he surprised her. He played the gentleman and he stayed on the ground. He took the reins from her hands and walked the horse through the camp and toward the town.

As they moved through the streets people stopped to stare at them, but Evelyne did not notice them. She was too busy staring down at the man who walked beside her horse, studying him. When they had first met she had been quick to make up her mind about him. She thought him conceited, full of himself, vain, and silly. Now, she still thought all of those things. But she allowed herself to notice that he was skilled, intelligent, he could be kind, and there was something about him that excited her.

As if he could feel her gaze on him he smirked at her, he did not turn to look at her, he kept his green eyes facing forward, but Evelyne felt as though he was still watching her. "The first time I met you was on a horse," he told her, his voice gentle and teasing.

She smiled too. "It was," she agreed.

He chuckled at her stubbornness. "Riding down the road as if your were running from the seventh hell itself," he told her. "Your hair wild and flying behind you."

Evelyne laughed, "What you must have thought of me," she mused. "It must have seemed very improper. No escort, and all."

He shook his head, turning to look at her for the briefest of seconds before he brought his gaze forward again. "I thought you looked like freedom," he told her. She raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for more. She thought she knew what he meant, but she could not be sure. He smiled, though the look in his eyes was distant, as if his body was with her, but his mind was not. "I grew up in a world where ladies are always so well-behaved. They keep themselves upright and at a distance. They are to be admired, but not known. Looked at, but not held. Romanced, but not _loved_. And you were the complete opposite of all that. This wild girl tearing up the road on a horse that was going much too fast. _You_ were someone I wanted to know. Someone I wanted to hold. Someone, perhaps the only someone in this world, that I might be able to love." He shrugged his shoulders, finally coming back to her, finally turning to look at her, "You were freedom from everything I had thought I had known. And you were beautiful."

Evelyne's lips quirked into a smile at his words. _Someone I might be able to love_. That was _real_. He wasn't lying to her, he wasn't playing the game of courtship. If he had been he would have said _someone I loved_. Instead there was an uncertainty about it that she appreciated. He was not saying he was in love with her, he was saying that if given the chance, he could be.

"And then I spoke," she told him, implying that all of his praise only lasted until she had spoken to him.

He chuckled and shook his head at the memory, "And then you spoke," he repeated. "Gods you were an odd one. I had _saved_ you, any other woman in the Seven Kingdoms would have been eternally grateful to me. They would have smiled pretty smiles, whispered pretty words, and fallen on their knees begging me to love them. But _you_ looked at me as though I were a stableboy, perhaps lower than a stableboy even. You were stubborn, and rude, and short. You had not needed saving, and if you had, you wouldn't have chosen me to do it."

Evelyne laughed, looking away from him and missing the way his smirk softened at the sound, "It was your smirk," she admitted to him. "You looked much too proud of yourself for saving me. I thought that you would congratulate yourself enough for the action that you did not need me to congratulate you as well. The more you smirked the angrier I got."

"And the angrier you got the more I smirked."

She nodded, "And the more determined I became to hate you."

"The more you hated the more intrigued I became."

"Are you telling me that if I had acted the part of a proper young lady you would have left me alone?" she asked him, laughing at the thought.

"You would have bored me if you acted like a proper lady," he told her with a shrug of his shoulders. "I would have treated you as I treat every other woman I meet."

"With a cool politeness and practiced disdain."

He grinned up at her, "Much the way you treat all of your admirers, my Lady, myself included."

"Am I treating you disdainfully now?" Evelyne questioned him, a soft smile resting on her lips.

"No," he told her, glancing away. "But it's there, just below the surface. And should I say something that makes you uncomfortable you will pull it on like armor."

She could not deny it. He knew her well. Her disdain was her armor. She looked away from him for a moment, "Tell me about her," she said, finally turning back.

"I would be happy to oblige, my Lady," Jaime told her. "But I do not who you would wish me to talk about."

"The woman you love, the one your sister told me about. The one you cannot have."

She was watching him, she did not miss the way his jaw clenched at the mention of his sister. She wondered if they had gotten in a fight. "She shouldn't have told you about her," he told her, his voice hard.

Evelyne tensed at the sound of his voice. She had merely been curious. She had not meant to make him angry. "You don't have to tell me anything if you do not wish," she told him, her voice as cold as his. "I was merely making conversation."

He smirked ruefully and shook his head, "And I did not mean to scold you, Evelyne," he told her. "You must accept my apology. You only caught me off guard. Why do you ask about her? What do you want to know?"

Evelyne looked away from him, pretending to be less interested than she truly was, "I just wondered how I compared to her," she told him. "For curiosity sake."

She could hear the smile in his voice though she would not look at him, "There's that armor," he murmured. He was quiet for a few minutes and just when Evelyne was about to tell him that he didn't need to answer her question he began to speak. "She's beautiful," he told her, "much like you. Though she's fair instead of flame. I once thought that you resembled her in your personality and mannerisms. But the more I know you the more I realize that I was a fool for thinking it. You are fire, you are movement and life, and passion. People come alive near you. You enchant."

Evelyne could feel her blush burning at her cheeks. She was not accustomed to praise like this. "And the lady?" she asked him, hoping to guide him away from talking about her.

"She's molten rock," he told her. "Capable of seeming warm, but ultimately when you get too close, and if given enough time, she becomes hard and cold. Where you make me feel alive, she made me feel uneasy. She can be cruel. Her disdain is not an armor, but a way of life."

Evelyne was quiet for a moment, "And does she know how you feel about her?" she asked.

Jaime smirked, "She knew how I felt about her," he told her. "She knew that I thought myself in love with her. And she did not care for my love. But lately I have begun to realize that whatever it is I felt about her, it was not love. I do not yet know if she knows that I have learned that. But she will."

"When?" Evelyne asked him. "When will she learn."

Jaime grinned, "When you agree to marry me, my Lady," he told her, his tone jovial. Evelyne smiled at her and shook her head. She would not give him the satisfaction of arguing with him or agreeing. So she remained silent. "You have one last question, Evelyne," he told her after a minute or so.

"What?" Evelyne asked, momentarily confused.

"From your letter," he clarified. "You have one more question from your letter."

"Oh yes," she agreed with a nod. "How did your father respond to my rejection?"

Jaime chuckled, "He told me that if I still wished to marry you, then I must woo you."

"Woo me?" Evelyne echoed. "Is that what the letters were for?"

Jaime nodded. "How am I doing so far?" he asked her, laughter ringing in his voice.

* * *

Author's Note:

Gah! It's been so long! I'm so sorry guys!  
For those of you who read HHNF you know why I was gone for so long, but for those who only read this story I'll give you a brief look into my life.  
I went away on vacation for the 4th of July. I came back and had a friend visit. Then I went to work. Then I had another couple friends visit. On top of that I suffered from some GoT related writer's block after I fell down the Les Mis rabbit hole. Every time I sat down at my computer the only writing I could do had to do with Les Mis.  
It was both a tragedy and magic. Tragic because my GoT stories got neglected, magic because I now have FOUR Les Mis stories coming down the pipeline. So if you're interested in that kind of thing ... keep your eyes open for them.  
But for now ... back to Game of Thrones. And back to Jaime and Evelyne.  
Hopefully you guys are still here too!  
As always! Thank you, thank you, thank you for your wonderful reviews!

 _lilnightmare17:_ I'm glad that you liked the last chapter! And I hope you're still here to enjoy this chapter too! Thank you so much for your review!

 _The Mikaelson Cupcake:_ I'm glad that you enjoyed the jousting. I have to confess that I don't know much about jousting, personally (obviously) so it was all based off of some slight research and a lot of guessing. But I'm glad it's enjoyable.  
As for his answer to her second question, that might turn out to be my favorite quote of this whole story. So I'm glad that you liked it too!

 _HPuni101:_ Thank you, dear! I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you enjoyed this one as well!

 _jaimefan:_ I'm glad you've enjoyed the story so far. It's a bit of a stretch to see Jaime offering a rose every time he rides, it is very much like Loras Tyrell. But from everything I've researched about jousting (admittedly, I haven't spent months on it) it was a regular and expected occurrence from knights riding in the lists. So while Jaime might not be prone to giving a woman flowers, it would be expected of him in a tourney setting.

 _Starrside:_ Thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. Maybe after this I could write a Ned/OC, but I think that might be hard for me. I love Ned Stark. I love the idea of writing about a young Ned, but unfortunately I cannot get my head around him being with anyone besides Catelyn. There are some characters that feel like they're made for an OC (Robb, Jaime, Jon Snow) and there are some like Ned, who got it right the first time and I'm not sure if I'm confident enough to play around with that.

 _HonestIndian:_ Thank you! It took me a while to update. But I hope the wait was worth it!

 _Dexter:_ See author's note above as to why I haven't been updating. But I'm back. And will be back again before the end of the week. I promise.

 _Tom:_ It has been a long time. And I'm so sorry for that. But I hope this chapter was at least somewhat worth the wait. You guys got a lot of Jaime/Evelyne interaction as a quiet apology for the wait.

 _queen cersei:_ I'm here. Back and typing. I am so sorry for leaving you guys waiting for so long. But I hope this chapter at least sort of makes up for it! Don't worry, I have not stopped writing this "awesome story."

That's all I've got for now! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.  
You guys are rockstars!  
Until next time,  
Chloe Jane.


	10. Chapter Ten: Falling, Parachutes

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying is for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

HUGE things happening in this chapter. Our two reluctant love birds have been dancing around each other for nine chapters now. I think it's time for a bit of ... romance.  
What say you?

* * *

 _Chapter Ten: Falling, Parachutes, and Forever._

 _Evelyne,_

 _I've been thinking about your eyes since I returned to Casterly Rock. I've been trying to put a name to their color. I've been trying to find something they match so that I can point to it and say, "There, that's the color of her eyes." Maybe then my father and my brother might understand why I cannot get you out of my thoughts.  
_ _The truth is, I can see your eyes clearly in my head. If I close my eyes I can picture your entire face, in fact. But every time I think I find something that matches your eyes I realize just how wrong I am.  
_ _My first day back at the Rock I thought that the color of the ocean matched your eyes. But there wasn't enough light to it.  
_ _That afternoon I thought your eyes were the color of a bright, cloudless spring sky. But there's not enough depth to the sky.  
_ _Three days later, I swore your eyes were the color of a forget-me-not. But that's too innocent for you. It doesn't begin to describe the mischief that glints in your eyes every time you open your mouth to tease me.  
_ _To tell you true, I don't think I will be satisfied with any other blue in the world - not now that I've seen what blue should look like.  
_ _They should make a paint the exact shade of your eyes. I would use it to paint every wall at the Rock.  
_ _They're a bit of a contradiction aren't they? Your eyes.  
_ _Still yours,  
_ _Jaime_

 _..._

 _Jaime,_

 _Are you sure that you're a knight? Because that letter made you sound like a poet. And not a very good one.  
_ _Though I must say that I am flattered that you paid so much attention to my eyes. In my general experience, most men pay more attention to a lady's body than they do her face.  
_ _And even less to her mind.  
_ _If you want to impress me, write poetry about my mind. About my words. About what I say and what I think. About what I do. Not what I look like.  
_ _Flattering her looks might work on most women you know. But it will not work on me. Beauty is ephemeral, it won't last forever. And if you only love me for my blue eyes and my pretty smiles then you won't love me for long.  
_ _I still believe you're playing at love, rather than truly feeling it. But if you were feeling it, and I was inclined to want it. I would want a love that would last forever. Not one that would disappear the moment the forget-me-not blue faded from my eyes.  
_ _As for making a paint the exact shade of my eyes, they already do. There's nothing special about the color really. They're just blue.  
_ _I must confess, I'm confused by your belief that there is any sort of contradiction to my eyes.  
_ _Yours,  
_ _Evelyne_

 _..._

 _Evelyne,_

 _You do not give yourself enough credit, my Lady. Every woman wants to be loved for her mind. It's not a new trait. It's not a strange one. But it would be dishonest for me to say that I loved your mind before I loved your face.  
_ _After all, I knew nothing about you the first time I saw you riding recklessly down the road. I did not know your mind, I did not know your words.  
_ _All I knew was your hair was the reddest hair I had ever seen. And that your eyes were the most beautiful eyes I would ever see again.  
_ _To call them simply blue, "just blue" as you put it. Is to do them a disservice.  
_ _To say that your eyes are blue is like saying that the sun is yellow. Sufficient, but not accurate to capture the burning.  
_ _And that's the contradiction of them. The one I spoke of in my most recent letter. They're blue like the flowers, blue like the sky, blue like the ocean - but they look like fire.  
_ _It's the same fire that I'm sure is alive in your mind. The one that gives you your quick wits and your silver tongue.  
_ _You're angry at me because in my last letter I only spoke to your eyes, to your physical charms. But I will tell you this. It was your eyes that first captured my attention, but it was your spirit and mind that kept me.  
_ _Yours,  
_ _J._

...

 _J,_

 _I don't know if I will ever know how to speak to you. Every time I think I have figured you out, every time I think I am comfortable, every time I think we are on equal footing you say something like that. Something that is meant to take my breath away, I'm sure.  
_ _And perhaps if I was any other young girl it might.  
_ _But my mother and father raised me to have a good head on my shoulders. They raised me to think for myself. And they raised me to call something horse shit when I think it is.  
_ _Your last letter, dear Ser, was horse shit.  
_ _My spirit and my mind have not kept you. My rejections have. If I were to stop rejecting you, even for a moment. You would quickly lose interest.  
_ _Perhaps that's the way to do it. Perhaps I should stop rejecting you. Perhaps I should stop fighting you. And then, perhaps, we would see who's being true. And who's being false.  
_ _Very well ... I've made a decision.  
_ _I will marry you.  
_ _Tell your father and I'll tell mine.  
_ _Just name the place and the day that I shall make you the happiest man in the Seven Kingdoms and I will be there.  
_ _The sooner the better, really. I do not think I can live another day without my beloved Jaime.  
_ _Now Ser, what say you?  
_ _Waiting with bated breath,  
_ _E._

...

 _E,_

 _You are a trickster, aren't you? You're laughing at me. But, dear Lady, tell me, what would you do if I had written back and said that I did tell my father you agreed to marry me? What would you do if I had written back and given you a place and a day and swore up and down that I would be waiting there for you? What would you say if I said that I was counting down the hours until you were the Lady of the Rock?  
_ _Would you call it horse shit then? Would you laugh at me? Or would you realize that you had made a mistake playing with my emotions?  
_ _And what if you were right? What if it were only your rejections that caught my attention? What if I never wrote back? I can imagine you know. You're thinking that your teasing letter would have done the trick if that was the case. You're telling yourself that you never wanted my attention, that you would be happy with it gone.  
_ _But I don't believe that for even a moment. And nothing you can say will change that. I think you enjoy this game we play. This dance. This give and take. I think that you're beginning to realize that you would never be happy with kind, solemn Ned Stark.  
_ _Deep down I think that you know that you would be bored without having someone to tease you. Without having someone to tease in return.  
_ _And that's not horse shit.  
_ _As for what I said, I stand by it. Your looks caught me, your mind kept me. Are your cleverly worded rejections and your playful insults not evidence of an active mind and a entrancing spirit? You say that I remain interested in you because of your rejections, I don't deny that. I simply argue that it is not the act of the rejection that keeps me tied to you, but how it is done.  
_ _So for now, I will continue to play our game.  
_ _It's your move,  
_ _J._

...

 _J_ ,

 _You are infuriating. I hope that you know that. I hope that you know that every time you send a raven I have half a mind to send it back without any response. But then I realize that that, in itself, would be a form of rejection. One you would look at as a challenge. One you would happily try to beat. And then, suddenly, I am imagining ten ravens showing up at Ironrath every day, each of them with a new letter from you.  
_ _I realize that it is better to respond to one letter than to be harried by many.  
_ _So here I am, writing to you again. Though I believe that it is a waste of both of our time. You should be practicing your swordplay, you will never become part of the Kingsguard if you spend your days inventing pretty lies for me to read.  
_ _Go. Practice.  
_ _We both know that's what you really want.  
_ " _And what will you do, my Lady?" I can almost hear you asking that in my mind. "How will you spend your days?"  
_ _I will spend my days trying to convince myself that this is what I wanted.  
_ _Yours,  
_ _E._

...

 _E,_

 _It's been weeks since Oldtown. I can barely remember your voice.  
_ _But I can remember the way you felt in my arms when we danced at the wedding ceremony. I can remember the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed at me. I can remember the way your red hair shone like gold in the candlelight. I can remember your teases and the way your lips turn up a bit at the corners as if you are always smiling at some private, inside joke.  
_ _And when you left me, to walk back to your pavilion with your brothers I can remember the way I felt knowing that the honor of joining the Kingsguard would be nothing compared to the honor of one more dance with you.  
_ _You tell me to practice with my sword because we both know that the Kingsguard is what I really want. But how can you know what I really want? How can you who always have a tease and a jest on the tip of your tongue know what I want? How can you be certain that I haven't been honestly telling you what I really and truly want all these months when I say that I want you?  
_ _Don't be so quick to make a joke of my feelings for you. One day I might believe you.  
_ _Waiting,  
_ _J._

...

 _J,_

 _Perhaps I want to believe. Have you ever thought of that? Perhaps I want to believe every singular word you write, every beautiful word you say. But you, yourself, have helped to create a world where that is not possible.  
_ _This game as you call it, this dance. It makes it impossible for me to decide when you are being true, when you mean what you say, and when you are simply playing at the game of courtly love.  
_ _Perhaps I want to fall for you. Perhaps I want to love you. But what happens if I fall and you are not there to catch me?  
_ _What happens to me then?  
_ _Wondering,  
_ _E._

...

 _E,_

 _I would catch you.  
_ _Always,  
_ _J._

...

 _Ser Jaime,_

 _That's it? That's all you have to say?  
_ " _I will catch you"? I wonder why you even bothered to send the bird at all. It was an awfully long trip for the poor beast for four simple words.  
_ _Four words that I cannot believe. If only for how simply they came.  
_ _Go play your games with someone else, Ser Jaime. I am tired of them.  
_ _Sincerely,  
_ _Lady Evelyne Forrester._

...

 _Ev,_

 _I never meant to hurt you. Or to come off as untrue. I meant it. All four words. You asked me what would happen if you allowed yourself to fall for me. And I told you the truth.  
_ _I would catch you.  
_ _(Truthfully, the bird brought you five words. You forgot the word "Always." As in I will ALWAYS be there, waiting to catch you.)  
_ _But now I am not so sure. I don't know if I will be there to catch you. Because this game we're playing, I believe it too.  
_ _Perhaps I wouldn't catch you. Perhaps we would fall together and make a parachute on the way down.  
_ _Yours. Always.  
_ _J._

...

 _J,_

 _You just don't give up, do you?  
_ _Very well, here is your parachute - ask my father again.  
_ _Ask for my hand again.  
_ _Perhaps my answer has changed.  
_ _Yours. Truly.  
_ _E._

...

 _Ev,_

 _I would love to ask for your hand again. By the Seven, by the Old Gods, by that bloody fire God across the Narrow Sea, there is nothing I want more.  
_ _But I learned my lesson last time. I will not be burned by the same flame twice.  
_ _You think for yourself. You make up your own mind.  
_ _I would not presume to ask your father for your hand, when I should be asking you.  
_ _I would not presume to ask for your hand in a letter, when I should do it in person.  
_ _Lord Whent will be hosting a tournament at Harrenhal in two months time. The king will be there. His son will be there. His entire court will be there. All the most important Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms will be there.  
_ _But I will only be looking for one person. I will be looking for a girl with skin as pale as the moon. With flames in her hair and ice in her veins. And a bit of both shining in her eyes.  
_ _Please don't disappoint me.  
_ _Say you will be there.  
_ _And when I ask you my question, say yes.  
_ _J._

...

 _J,_

 _I asked my father.  
_ _I will be at Harrenhal. Eagerly awaiting your question.  
_ _Yours forever,  
_ _E._

* * *

Author's Note:

BOOM! I am grinning a ridiculously large (embarrassingly large, really) grin right now. Writing an editing this chapter made me really happy. And it made me fall in love with these two a little bit more than I already was.  
It's perhaps a bit pathetic really.  
Or maybe not.  
What did you guys think? Did you like it? Did you love it? Was it too much, too soon?  
Perhaps. I thought it might be, but as I sat down to write these chapters they kind of ran away from me. And then I realized that I didn't want to rein them in.  
If you think about it, it takes perhaps a week for each bird to fly from Casterly Rock to Ironrath. And another week to fly back. Which means that these fourteen letters were sent over the course of twenty-eight weeks. Add that to their other letters from previous chapters and the two tournaments they have been to together and Evelyne and Jaime have known each other for at least a year.  
That's enough time to fall in love I think.  
And besides ... I was grinning like a fool when I wrote it. Which means I wasn't going to change it.  
Anywho ... thanks for reading! And than you, as always for your sweet reviews. They are like heroin ... highly addictive.

 _Melmela:_ I'm glad I made you happy despite how tired you were. And I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well. To tell it true, this one was a bit for you. (Though I suppose the whole story is kind of for you since you were the one who first asked for a Jaime story.)  
YOU HEAR THAT EVERYONE? BLAME MELMELA FOR THIS! (Just kidding ... but perhaps you should thank her!)

 _lilnightmare17:_ Thank you dear! I'm glad the last chapter was amazing and I hope that perhaps, this one was even more so! Let me know!

 _HPuni101:_ You're welcome for updating! Thank you for your review! I hope that you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing about it. Coming up soon - Evelyne meets Tywin. EXCITING. (and also a bit terrifying.)  
As for Ned ... he does not know yet, but he will know soon. I'll try not to break his heart with it.

 _The Mikaelson Cupcake:_ That's really good. I always get nervous writing about something that I don't really know about so I usually do a ridiculous amount of research. (For example, for a Walking Dead story that I have since deleted I spent a day at a shooting range with a cop friend of mine, shooting every kind of gun he would let me put my hands on just so that I knew how to describe it all.) But I can't really go to a jousting club, and if I could I don't know if I would risk it. And jousting wasn't supposed to be a major part of the story so I only did limited research. But then I realized I loved writing about it. So it just kept coming!  
Anyway ... I hope you enjoyed this chapter. They weren't together Per se, but I think it's safe to say it's headed that way.  
Or is it?

 _Kairi-senpai:_ Hello Kairi-senpai! Thank you so much for your review! I love that you love my intros into the chapters. I often find myself wondering if anyone even reads those ramblings, so it's nice to know that you do! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

That's all I've got for now. Now I want to hear from you! Where do you think this is going in the next few chapters? Brownie points to anyone who guesses even remotely close to my plan!  
Until next time,  
Chloe Jane.


	11. Chapter Eleven: The White Cloak

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

 _Chapter Eleven: The White Cloak_

The castle of Harrenhal was large, the largest Evelyne had ever seen. And standing on the shore of the Gods Eye looking up at the dark, partially charred walls she could see that it was once probably one of the most beautiful castles in the Seven Kingdoms.

There were five towers, tall towers, but from her place on the ground outside the walls she could only see the tops, the castle's outer walls were so tall. When they had first arrived her eldest brother Gregor had pointed out the wooden scorpions that stood on the top of the walls, but now she could barely make them out. They were so small.

They had been at Harrenhal for a day and a half now and Evelyne had already explored as much of the castle grounds as she had been allowed. Much of the castle had fallen to ruin, she had learned that the Whents only used the lower thirds of two of the five towers, the rest were left to decay. A servant had told her that there were parts of the castle that had not been entered in decades. They said that there were bats in the towers. Lord Whent had made a joke of it by putting bats on his House sigil.

The ruin and the bats were horrible, but they did not take away from the grandeur of the castle. The great hall had thirty-five hearths and could fit an entire army in it. The Godswood was twenty acres. There was a bear pit, a large bath house the size of her family's great hall, and the largest tourney field she had ever seen.

It seemed to her that this castle would have been better suited for giants than for men. And everything about this castle intrigued her. From its history, to its size, to the awkward way the towers all leaned left after the castle had been burnt by Aegon Targaryen's dragons.

She and her brothers had arrived before Jaime. But she had seen many Lannister knights arrive that morning and she had a feeling that he would be arriving soon, the opening night celebrations would begin at dusk. And she knew enough of Jaime Lannister to know that he would not miss that. She had told her brothers that she wanted to explore the Gods Wood, knowing that they would believe that it would take her all day to do so, and then she had gone to the Gods Eye so that she could look out for when he arrived.

She wasn't looking for him now though, she was too busy staring at the castle, her back turned toward the road. As nervous as she was to see him, as anxious as she was, there was just something about the castle that drew the eye. She was so busy staring at the castle that she did not notice the man approach her until he had spoken.

"It certainly is a sight, isn't it?" a man asked from over her right shoulder.

"It is," she agreed, not looking away from the castle. "It was brave of Lord Harren to build it on such a scale. He had to know that it would catch the notice of the Targaryens."

"I believe that was the point," the man told her.

She nodded, perhaps he was right. "They say it's cursed," she told him softly, still not looking away from the massive walls in front of her. "There have been seven Houses that have held it since Lord Harren, and each of them lost it. One would think that a lord would think twice about holding Harrenhal."

"Cursed or not, the holdings are some of the richest in the Seven Kingdoms," the man argued. "Perhaps holding a cursed castle for a matter of time would be worth the benefits the House reaps during the years."

Evelyne shrugged her shoulders, "Working under the assumption that riches are the most important thing in the world."

"No," the man said, "but your House's legacy is."

She smiled at that, "Spoken like a man who serves a Great House," she told him, finally turning toward the man. "We little Houses do not worry about legacy so much."

"No?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't that why your House is so careful with its Ironwood forest? Legacy?"

"Survival," Evelyne argued, her brows furrowed as she looked at the man, surprised that he knew what House she hailed from. She was not wearing the Forrester sigil. The man looked familiar, though she could not immediately place where she had seen him.

He was tall and though he was an older man he had more muscle to him than some of the young men preparing to fight in the upcoming tournament. His hair had been gold once, though now it was streaked with grey. He had yellow whiskers on his strong chin, his lips turned down at the corners as if he had spent his like frowning. He had high cheekbones and green eyes flecked with gold.

She gasped when her gaze fell to the gold lion sigil on his doublet. This man _was_ familiar to her. And not because she had ever seen him before, but because she had seen his features on someone else. On the man she planned to marry. _This_ was Jaime's father.

She quickly sank into a low curtsy, hoping the man would forgive her for her impertinence. She had just told the richest man in the Seven Kingdoms that wealth and legacy were not important. "I'm sorry, my Lord," she greeted him, not quite able to meet his eyes. "I did not recognize you."

"I see," he told her, his lips turning up a bit at the corners, as if he were fighting a smile. "You're just that opinionated and forthcoming with everyone then? Not simply your future father by law?"

Evelyne looked at him, surprised. "You, you know, my Lord?" she asked him.

"I know that my son is quite taken with you," he told her, moving closer so that he could stand beside her instead of behind her. "I know that he had me break a guaranteed match in favor of asking for your hand. I know that you told him no. I also know that you continued to send him ravens, something that tells me that you are not as sure of your rejection as he was of his affection for you."

Evelyne smiled at him, she felt a blush rising on her cheeks, "You know quite a bit then, my Lord," she told him, not wanting to give too much away.

"Not as much as you know, my Lady, I'm sure."

She studied him for a moment, his features were so much like Jaime's, but they lacked the warmth she had come to expect. Jaime might have been his son, but Lord Tywin Lannister was the shadow. Her eyes narrowed playfully as she watched him. "Did you come here to threaten me, my Lord?" she asked him. "To scare me into accepting your son's hand?"

The man shook his head, "No," he told her. "I would not do you the disservice to imply that you could be scared into doing anything. And I would not do my son the dishonor of forcing his bride to accept his hand. That would not a happy union make."

"And are the High Lords of Westeros in the business of making happy unions now?" Evelyne asked him, being just brave enough to tease the man who would soon call her _daughter_. "Here I thought their aim was _prosperous_ marriages."

"They can be both," Lord Tywin told her.

"They can also be neither."

Lord Tywin chuckled, "That they can, my Lady. Though I would never wish it for my son."

"I would never wish it for Jaime either," Evelyne told him. She did not realize until a moment too late that she had been too familiar, too soft when she said his name. She had not said it in as many words, but Lord Tywin could see what was in her heart, she was sure of it.

"You care for him," the older man observed.

Evelyne thought about denying it, but it would have been a lie. "He has a way of getting under one's skin," she murmured, glancing away from the green eyes that looked so much like his son's.

"And _you_ have a way of getting under his, Lady Evelyne," he told her. He glanced away from her, looking toward the castle. "Before we arrived he told me that I needed to meet you, that I would understand as soon as I met you. I assumed that it was because you were beautiful, which you are. But I see it now. There's a fire in you that he never would have found in Lysa Tulley. There is a strength in you that comes from your Northern upbringing, a stubbornness unlike anything I have seen outside of my own daughter."

Evelyne smiled at him, "And that pleases you, my Lord?" she asked him, guessing that it was approval she saw glinting in his eyes.

"Being the Lady of Casterly Rock is not an easy position," he told her, still looking at the castle instead of her. "It is difficult, and hard. It takes a certain kind of woman to be Lady Lannister. You would be well suited for it."

This was praise, she realized, as far as he was concerned. "And am I to be Lady of Casterly Rock?" Evelyne asked, still playing with the older man.

"That is for you to answer, my Lady," Lord Tywin told her, his hands behind his back as he started to walk away from her. "Though I sincerely hope that you consider it. For my son's sake."

Evelyne smiled. _Yes_ , she thought, _I have considered it. And my answer is yes._

-.-.-.-.-

He found her before the opening ceremonies. She looked beautiful, dressed in a gown of crimson velvet with silver stitching and details. He could not help but smirk when she approached him, if only the detailing on her gown had been gold she would have looked like a Lannister.

As they were in public, surrounded by other lords, ladies, and knights she played the part of a proper and formal lady. He wanted to rush to her, to throw his arms around her and swing her around in a circle. He wanted to press a kiss against her lips, to promise that he would make her happy. But she greeted him with a gentle inclination of her head and a shallow curtsy, "Well met, Ser Jaime," she greeted him, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

"Well met?" he asked, a smirk playing at his own lips. "That is all you have to say, Lady Evelyne? _Well met_?" He chuckled and shook his head, "I wonder why you bothered to approach me to begin with. Those four words were hardly worth the journey."

She smiled, realizing that he was repeating her words from one of her previous letters. "Yes," she told him, her smile widening. "That is all I have to say."

"Oh you're a cruel one, aren't you?" he chuckled, moving closer to her and holding out his hand to her. "You come to me, dressed almost in Lannister colors, but not quite. And then you say the one word I want to hear before I even ask you my question."

Evelyne smiled at him and placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her closer to him. "All you need to do is ask me then, Ser Jaime," she told him, rolling her eyes when he lifted her hand to his lips so that he could press a kiss against the back of her hand. "I am not the one playing with your emotions, you are."

Jaime was quiet for a moment, watching her, "You really will say yes?" he asked her, needing to be sure. She had told him in her letters that she wanted to marry him, that she wanted to believe everything he told her, that she would say yes. But he still couldn't wrap his head around it. Whatever he had done to earn her love, he wouldn't believe it until she was truly his. "When I ask you?"

"Yes," she told him, laughing a bit as she looked at his face. " _When_ you ask."

He smiled at her and nodded, "At the end of the tournament," he promised her. "Once I've won and named you the Queen of Love and Beauty. In front of all the High Lords and Ladies of Westeros. That's when I will ask you for your hand."

"You're going for a private feel then, are you?" she asked, her tone biting and sarcastic.

He chuckled and shook his head, "I hope that, perhaps, by asking you in front of all of them you will be unable to change your mind and tell me no."

Evelyne laughed, throwing her head back and allowing her red hair to dance down her spine. "Oh but think of what fun I could have," she told him. "Rejecting you in front of all of Westeros. That could be more fun than telling you _yes_."

"Don't you dare," Jaime told her, lunging forward so that he could wrap one of his arms around her waist and pull her closer to him. "I have suffered your rejection once, Ev, I will not be able to do so again."

She stared at him for a moment, her blue eyes darting over his face, as if she were reading him like she would read a book. "I gave you my word, Jaime," she told him, her voice solemn. "I will not break it. I _will_ marry you."

Jaime smiled and nodded at her, noting the curious looks from those who walked past them. He allowed his hand to drop from her waist, it was too familiar a touch, there would be whispers. "In that case, please allow me to escort you to the tourney field. I thought that we might watch the opening celebrations together."

"People will talk," Evelyne warned him.

"And what have I told you since you first caught my eye?"

Evelyne smiled and nodded toward the tourney field, silently telling him that he could escort her, "Let them talk," she told him.

"Indeed," Jaime told her with a soft smile. "They will write songs about you and I, Lady Evelyne. I'm sure of it."

"And will you have them played every night once we are married?" Evelyne asked, turning to look at him, the right corner of her lips turning up at the edges.

"Every night and twice on feast days. People will hear the songs so often that they will think we had forgotten the words to _Rains of Castamere_."

"Oh no," Evelyne laughed, "we cannot have that. Part of the Lannister legacy is how full of yourselves you are. We can't have you forgetting the words to your own song."

"Legacy?" Jaime asked as they walked. "You sound like my father."

"He found me today," Evelyne told him. "When he first arrived, I imagine. I must admit I was a bit more forward with him than I think he would have liked."

Jaime chuckled, "I'm sure he appreciated it," he told the woman. "My mother had a quiet way of standing up to my father, nothing like what I'm sure you gave him a taste of. But she had the same fire in her that you do." He paused for a moment, "Did you tell him that you intended to say yes?" he asked her.

Evelyne smiled at him, "He hinted at it, I'm sure he wished for a straight answer."

"But you did not give him one," Jaime guessed, enjoying the sparkle in the young woman's eye. Oh, he was sure that she had given his father hell instead of an answer.

"I did not," Evelyne told him with a smile.

Jaime chuckled, "Oh my father is going to both love and hate having you at the Rock," he told her, lifting her hand back to his lips so that she could press a kiss against the inside of her wrist.

"And you, Jaime?" she asked him.

"Will I love and hate having you at the Rock?" Jaime asked her. He shook his head, "I imagine a bit of both," he told her honestly. He could practically see her heart fall at his words. The sparkle left her eyes, her lips parted in surprise, she let out a shallow, shaking breath. She was disappointed in his answer. Perhaps she had wanted a declaration of his undying love. But that would never be their relationship. They both knew it. He sighed and stopped walking so that he could turn to look at her. "I have a feeling that you will try my patience every day," he told her. "I'm sure that at least once a fortnight I will think that my life would have been easier if I had not married you. I imagine that once a year you will make me seriously consider setting you aside and finding a nice, docile southern girl. But I will promise you that no matter what you do, what you say, how you behave I will _never_ stop loving you." She wasn't looking at him, her head was ducked, a blush coloring her cheeks. He reached out, using his hand to tilt her head up so that she would look at him. "You ask if I will love or hate having you at Casterly Rock and my answer is _both_. But I will _always_ love it more than I will hate it."

Her blue eyes were sparkling again as she looked at him, "You have always had such a way with words," she told him, shaking her head as she pulled away from his reach.

"And you have always had a way of playful disdain," Jaime chuckled back.

"A friend of mine once told me it was my armor," she told him with a smirk.

Jaime chuckled, low and dark, "An armor I soon hope to take off," he whispered to her.

She gasped, the blue in her eyes darkened. "Too forward," she whispered back to him. "As always."

They had reached the tourney grounds now. They took their seats, hoping to remain hidden among the crowd. The last thing Jaime wanted was for her brothers to decide to sit with them. Or worse, his sister. She sat closer to him than she had ever sat with Ned. Her left hand sat on the bench between them, half hidden by her skirts. As Lord Whent gave his welcoming speech and named his own daughter the Queen of Love and Beauty for the beginning of the ten day tournament Jaime allowed his hand to drop down on top of hers.

As the King stood up to acknowledge the cheers of the crowd Evelyne interlaced their fingers.

For the first time since he had read her letter where she promised to marry him he finally felt as though she was truly his.

He was so happy that he barely listened to the king's speech. He was so wrapped up in the feel of _her_ beside him that he was surprised when he heard the King call his name.

"Ser Jaime Lannister, please come forward and be presented to the King's Guard."

* * *

Author's Note:

Oh you guys thought that this was going to be a happy story didn't you? Silly readers, there are no happy stories in GoT. There's always drama. And this week the drama is Jaime's deciding whether or not he will honor his arrangement with Evelyne or if he will join the King's Guard.  
What do you think he will do? (I won't guess because I already know.)  
Anyway, happy Game of Thrones day! Who's excited for tonight's episode? THIS GIRL!  
I thought I'd celebrate with an update. What say you?  
Thank you for reading, for adding this story to your alerts lists and your favorites lists. But most of all, thank you for your reviews! I live off of them.

 _HPuni101:_ I giveth and I taketh away! Thank you so much for your review! I'm glad that you enjoyed the last update and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well. We're really going to start having fun in the upcoming chapters.

 _The Mikaelson Cupcake:_ I really was surprised by how much I enjoyed the letters. The first time I wrote a chapter of just letters I thought it wouldn't work. But I kind of liked it. So I wrote the last chapter all letters and I loved it. And now, in the chapter after the next one it's letters again (with a twist). Maybe one day I should just do an entire story in letters because I like them so much.  
Anyway, I'm glad you liked the last chapter and I hope you liked this one as well. As for your question ... Jaime is obviously going to be offered a place in the King's Guard. But you'll have to wait until the next chapter to see how he responds.

 _Melmela_ : I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope that you enjoyed this one as well! Thank you so much!

That's all I've got for now.  
Until next time,  
Chloe Jane.


	12. Chapter Twelve: All I've Ever Wanted

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

 _Chapter Twelve: All I've Ever Wanted_

Jaime felt as if he was moving in slow motion when he turned away from Evelyne to look toward where the King's Guard stood in the center of the tourney field facing the king. There were six of them, in their shining white plate and their bright, white cloaks. There had been a time, not that long ago, when he had wanted nothing more than to be one of them. But that had been before Evelyne.

He felt her tense in her seat beside him. She was not looking at him, her blue eyes were staring straight ahead, but he could tell that she was waiting for him to move. Her fingers were clenched tightly in his own, her spine as straight as a rod. She was too proud to beg him to stay, he would have to make that decision on his own. But he could tell that she would not relax until he did.

He glanced between them, the Brotherhood that he had wanted to be a part of since he was a young boy playing with a practice sword and the woman that he had come to care for in a surprisingly short amount of time. They were both waiting for him to make his decision. And as much as he wanted both, he could not have them. He would have to choose between them.

He sighed, "Evelyne," he whispered to her. He knew that she was proud, he knew that she would never beg him to choose her, but he _wanted_ her to. He needed to know that when he turned the king down, when he turned his back on his lifelong dream, he needed to know that she would be there for him, with him, beside him.

She took a shallow, shaky breath, her eyes closed, her fingers untangled from his own. She was distancing herself from him, letting him go. He wanted to hear that she needed him to stay with her, what he got instead was a silent goodbye.

"Ev," he tried again, begging her to look at him. "Please, say something."

She shook her head, he couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard her whimper. He begged her again, to say anything at all to him. "Just go, Ser Jaime," she bit out, still not looking at him. "We both know you want to."

"Ev," he tried again, this is not what he wanted from her. Just a matter of an hour ago the two of them had been walking together, joking about their lives together and now she couldn't even look at him. He needed her to look at him. He needed to know that he wasn't alone.

She shook her head again, "Jaime," she sighed, her voice cracking with the effort to stay steady. "Go, they're waiting for you. This is all you've ever wanted. Go."

" _You're_ all I've ever wanted, Ev," Jaime sighed.

She shook her head, "Don't Jaime," she told him. "Don't make it harder. This is what you've wanted since you were a young boy. We talked about it the first time we met, remember? I teased you, I told you that if you ever married it would be because you were rejected from the guard. When you asked for my hand, when you _wooed_ me, I allowed myself to believe that you truly wanted me and that it wasn't because you thought that you would never become part of the King's Guard. But I was wrong."

"Ev, no," Jaime started, he wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that she didn't understand. He wanted her, not the King's Guard.

"You're a kind man, Jaime Lannister," she told him, still not meeting his gaze. "A _good_ man. If I held you to your word I know that you would keep it. If I told you to stay with me you would. And at the end of this tournament you would ask for my hand and you would marry me. I know it. You would do your best to make me happy. But you would never be happy, not after turning your back on your dream." She shook her head. "Go. Please don't make me beg you to leave me. Give me that at least."

He reached out for her hand. She pulled it away, placing both of her hands in her lap, her fists clenched. Her whole body shaking in her effort to look strong. His gaze swept over her face, her blue eyes sparkled not with excitement but tears. Her jaw clenched. Her lips trembled.

She had made up her mind. She would say goodbye to him. She would force him to say goodbye to her. Earlier that afternoon she had promised him that she would marry him and now she was pushing him to accept a position in the King's Guard, a place that would never allow him to marry her.

For a moment he hated her, she had made him love her and then she had sentenced him to a life without her. He had thought that she was different from Cersei, his escape from his sister's cold and cruel nature. But this seemed worse than anything his sister had ever done. But as he looked at her, watched as she tried not to cry, he realized that she did not mean to be cruel. She meant to set him free. And there was nothing that he could say that would make her believe that he wanted her more than he wanted the white cloak.

His jaw clenched. She had already said goodbye to him and now it was time for him to say goodbye to her. "I truly do love you, Ev," he told her.

She closed her eyes, a tear escaping her left eye and slid down her cheek. He reached out, to wipe it away but she jerked her head away from his hand. "Just go, Jaime," she begged him. "Please."

He sighed, "As you will, my lady," he told her. He stood from his seat and bowed to her, "Should you ever be in need of my service -"

"I will look for you in King's Landing," she bit out, her blue eyes finally turning to meet his gaze. The tears were still there, but her eyes were narrowed and cold. Like the first time he had met her. He had overstayed his welcome, that much was certain.

"Good day, my lady," he told her with another nod before he turned and walked away from her.

His shoulders felt tight as he walked away from her, as if he was carrying some heavy burden on his back. Everything in him screamed at him to turn around, to walk back to Evelyne to tell her that he loved her and to ask her to be his wife. Everything in him ordered him to tell the King's Guard that he was grateful for their offer but that he could not accept.

But instead he steeled himself, he clenched his fists and slowly walked down to the six knights. He knelt in front of Ser Gerald Hightower and in front of the king and most of the court he said his vows.

"Under the grace of House Targaryen, I, Jaime Lannister, hereby swear on my honor and my allegiance to protect the King, the Queen, and their family. I will do my duties until death, and through that time, keep all secrets of the King safe from spread. I will not speak unless spoken to, and I will defend the King's land or pay the price. I will wed no wife, sire no children, and hold no land. I will master the gate, pluck the bow, handle the blade, and serve my realm: for now and forever."

The crowd had cheered when Ser Gerald raised him up and placed the white cloak around his shoulders. He did not care about the cloak, he did not care about the brotherhood, he did not care about the cheering crowd. He cared about one thing, one person. Once the ceremony was done he turned, looking through the crowd for the girl with fire in her hair and ice in her veins.

But his red haired temptress, the woman he was sure that he would still love for the rest of his life, she was no where to be found. At some point after he had left her she had disappeared from the tourney grounds.

He sighed, he couldn't blame her, he wouldn't blame her. He turned back toward the king and moved to his place at his side. Aerys smiled at him, almost serenely, "Well met, Ser Jaime," he greeted him echoing the words Evelyne had used earlier that afternoon. "Look happier, will you? Your sister told Queen Rhaella that joining the King's Guard was your greatest ambition."

Jaime forced a smile onto his lips. "It is, Your Grace, and I thank you for the honor."

"It isn't meant as an honor boy," the king told him. "I have enemies everywhere. I need the bravest and the best protecting me. _You_ are one of them."

"I hope to prove that during the tournament," Jaime murmured.

The king shook his head, laughing almost, "Did you not hear your vows, Ser Jaime?" he asked. "You vowed to protect the King, the Queen, and their family. As you can see, all seven members of the King's Guard are here. Queen Rhaella is at the Red Keep Someone must guard her."

"Surely," Jaime started, he could not believe it. He had hoped for another chance to speak to Evelyne, a moment to explain himself to her. But Aerys seemed determined not to allow it.

The king shook his head, "You will ride for King's Landing tonight, Ser Jaime," he ordered. "You will win no honor here."

And it was then that Jaime realized why he had been named to the King's Guard. It was not to reward him for his skill on the battlefield or the tourney field. It was to punish his father, to keep him in line, to steal his heir.

He had turned his back on Evelyne, he had abandoned a life with her for a hollow victory.

-.-.-.-.-

She couldn't stay to watch him swear his vows. She could not sit in the stands and listen to him swear that he would never take a wife, that he would never father children. She could not pretend that her heart wasn't breaking when she watched him get everything he had ever wanted. She had told him to go, she had set him free, but there had been a large part of her that wished that he would turn around, that he would choose her, that he would _want_ her.

But he hadn't. He had walked down to the six white cloaks without a look back over his shoulder for her.

And so she had left. Her initial plan had been to walk back to her pavilion and to spend the next ten days avoiding him. But on her walk to her tent she realized that she could not do that. She could not stay here, _so_ close to him and not have him. It would break her more than he already had.

So, when she finally made it to the Forrester tents she approached one of the men at arms. "I need to return home," she told him, flinching at the way her voice cracked when she spoke. The last thing that she wanted was to begin to cry in front of one of her father's men.

"Tonight, my lady?" the man asked.

She nodded. "As soon as possible," she told him. "I will pack my trunk and we will be on our way."

"It will be dark soon, my lady," he told her. "Perhaps we should wait until morning."

"Are you afraid to ride in the dark, ser?" she asked him, her tone no longer broken, but biting and strong. "We will take the King's Road most of the way up, it is a well traveled road, there will be people on it tonight riding for Harrenhal. We won't be alone. I would like to ride as far as we can before we stop for the night. I hope to be at Ironrath by the end of the next week."

He seemed surprised by her statement, she was setting a bruising pace, she was aware of that. But she was so desperate to put as much space between herself and Jaime Lannister that she did not care. "If I may, my lady," the man started, his voice gentle, "perhaps we should ask your brothers first. I imagine that they will be angry to learn that you left this late in the evening."

"And you are worried they will punish you?" she asked him, arching an eyebrow. She shook her head, "No. I will make it clear to them that I gave you no choice in the matter."

"My lady -"

"What is your name, ser?" Evelyne asked him, interrupting him before he could speak again.

"Harold, my lady," he told her, squaring his shoulders.

She nodded, "Harold, you are sworn to serve House Forrester. Is that correct?" He nodded. "And am I not a part of House Forrester?"

"You are, my lady."

"Then would you or would you not be serving House Forrester by escorting me back to Ironrath. _Tonight_."

"I would be, my lady," he told her. "But I would prefer to leave in the morning, if it is all the same to you."

"It is not all the same to me," she told him as she started to move past him. "I will be leaving for Ironrath with or without you, Harold," she told him. "While I pack my trunk, if I were you I would consider whether or not you would get in more trouble for riding with me or letting me ride alone."

She packed quickly, her mother would be angry when she saw the state of her dresses. Instead of folding them neatly she had thrown them in the trunk. She was sure that she was forgetting something, but her brothers would make sure to bring anything she left behind with them when they returned home.

She took a moment to scribble out a quick note to her brothers, telling them that she _had_ to return home to Ironrath, that she could not stay at Harrenhal another minute. Asher, at least, would understand, she was sure of it.

And then, struggling a bit with the weight she lifted her trunk and began to carry it out of her tent. She was moving slowly, she had not reached the flaps yet when she heard Harold speaking to a man outside her tent. "Ser, you cannot enter the lady's tent. If you will wait she will be out in a moment."

"What is she doing in there?" she heard someone ask.

 _Not someone_ , she thought, _him_. She would recognize Jaime Lannister's voice anywhere. She cursed herself for writing a note for her brothers. She cursed Harold for putting up so much of a fight about leaving that evening. She cursed herself again for packing her trunk. They should have simply left.

"Packing, I imagine," Harold supplied.

"Packing?" Jaime asked.

"Yes," she cut in, exiting her tent and smiling gratefully at Harold as he rushed forward to take her trunk from her hands. "Ser Jaime, I must say that I am surprised to see you so soon. Should you not be guarding the king? You are a member of the King's Guard, after all, are you not?"

It was a stupid, pointless question, she could see that he was part of the King's Guard, he had a white cloak on his shoulders. And she was being needlessly cruel, she had told him to join, she had no right to be angry that he had listened to her.

"Ev," he sighed, his face was defeated, but his voice was soft. For a moment she felt sorry for him. Then he sighed and shook his head, "What are you doing?" he asked her, this time his tone was colored with the exasperation that he had promised her she would no doubt make him feel.

"I'm going home," she told him. "Tonight. As soon as Harold saddles my horse."

"You can't!" Jaime tried to argue with her.

"I assure you," she told him, "I can. And you, Ser, are not in a position to try to tell me what to do."

"It's not safe," Jaime argued, moving closer to her.

"You should know me well enough to know that I do not shy away because of fear," she told him, looking over his shoulder to make sure that the men were saddling her horse and preparing to leave. If it got much darker Harold and the few men that would be traveling with her might overrule her and force her to stay until morning. She could not stay the night, she could not stay another second.

For a moment he looked as though he were going to reach out to touch her. "Is this because of me?" he asked her.

She laughed, a harsh humorless laugh so unlike her own, "Typical Lannister," she told him, shaking her head. "To think this is about you. This is about me. I have nothing to keep me here. Nothing to tie me to this tournament. I _thought_ I had a reason to be here, but it seems that I thought wrong. If it's all the same I would rather be back at Ironrath than here."

"I'm leaving," he told her, swallowing his pride. She appreciated how much it must have embarrassed him to tell her that, but she refused to change her mind. "If that helps," he continued. "The king has sent me to King's Landing to guard Queen Rhaella. So if even a tiny bit of you wants to leave because of me, you needn't worry. I leave tonight."

"This isn't about you, Jaime," she bit out. "This is about me. I _need_ to leave."

"And I _needed_ you," he whispered.

Her gaze quickly rose to his face, she had not expected that. "Perhaps you should have thought about that before you swore your oath and put on your white cloak," she told him.

"You _told_ me to!" Jaime argued.

"Because you _wanted_ it!" She sighed and shook her head, "I don't want to fight with you, Jaime," she told him. "I just can't be here. Whether you're here or not, I can't be here. Please understand that. And please move out of the way."

Jaime sighed, but he moved out of her way. He followed her to her horse, and ever the gentleman, he helped her climb into her saddle. "Safe journey, my lady," he told her, not meeting her gaze.

She stared at him for a moment and sighed, "Tell your father he should be proud," she told him. He scoffed at that, but did not argue. There would have been a time when he would have told her why he scoffed, there would have been a time when she felt it was her right to ask. _Now_ that time had gone. "He should be," she told him, her voice harder so that he would know that she meant it. "You're the youngest member ever named to the King's Guard. Eighteen years old and already a white cloak. That speaks volumes. Your legacy is set."

Jaime's smile was rueful, "There was a time when I had thought that my legacy would be the children you gave me," he told her.

She smiled down at him, she could imagine them. Little children with his gold hair and her blue eyes. Or her red curls and his feline eyes. All high cheekbones and long eyelashes. She shook her head, imagining their lives together was not going to help her forget him. "Instead you have a different one," she told him. "No less honorable. There is no shame in it." She glanced over his head and nodded toward Harold, silently telling him that it was time to start riding. "I wish you well, Ser Jaime," she told him. "Perhaps one day you will tell me of all your white cloaked adventures. Until then, you know where to find me."

His tone was bitter when he spoke, "No doubt at Winterfell. Your father will start to negotiate your betrothal to Ned Stark again."

He meant to hurt her. He knew that after everything they had told each other that she would never be happy with Ned, that she would spend her days wishing for Jaime. She would not allow him to see how much it hurt her. Instead she shrugged her shoulders and took her reins in her hands, "I was always made for the North," she told him. "What was it you once said? I have ice in my veins? It would have only melted down in the south."

And then, without a look back at him she started to ride north.

* * *

Author's Note:

Oh, these poor sweet children. If only they would talk to each other. If only they talked to each other. But instead they make assumptions and blame each other for them. You just want to yell at them, don't you?  
But I love them anyway! And I loved this chapter!  
And I hope you did as well! Than you so much for reading.  
And thank you in advance for the lovely reviews I know you're going to leave me! Let's see if we can't break 100 of them, shall we?

 _HPuni101:_ I've always loved a kinder Tywin Lannister. It's pretty much cannon in my mind. I like to believe that he didn't get truly hard and cruel, even after Joanna's death, until after Jaime joined the King's Guard. Then he had lost his wife and his heir. The Tywin Lannister that might appear in later chapters won't be as kind.  
Even though I ignored your wishes, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!

 _lilnightmare17:_ Thank you so much! I hope this chapter was just as awesome as the last!

 _The Mikaelson Cupcake:_ You're horrible feeling was right, Jaime said yes. But this is not the end of this story. He and Evelyne will be running into each other very soon. This is just a wrench. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

 _calh:_ I love nothing more than a good cliffhanger! This chapter did not end on one, but I thought that, maybe I'd enough damage to you guys that I'd end it on a definite note. I hope you enjoyed it!

 _Radio Free Death:_ It probably would fit better into the book category. Can I switch it after it's already been posted? As for your questions about the drab conditions and if it was part of the appeal ... call it creative license.

 _chickeyd:_ Oh my goodness! This is one of the longest reviews I have gotten for this story. It makes me ridiculously happy! I'm so glad that you are enjoying Evelyne and Jaime's characterization. And I'm thrilled that their relationship is engaging. It's always a risk, creating an OC in a well-loved universe, so I'm happy this risk is paying off and you guys are enjoying it.  
I'm glad you liked the letters, the next chapter is full of them too.  
I did enjoy the last TWO episodes of GoT. They were AMAZING!

 _Bella-swan11:_ Don't worry about Prince Rhaegar friend, there's another Targaryen who's gonna have his eye on Evelyne.

 _snoowbunnie:_ Don't worry! They might still end up together. And Cersei will definitely be back to cause drama. But I had to do it, I had to put a white cloak on him! I'm sorry!

That's all I've got for now friends! I'll be back soon!  
Until next time,  
Chloe Jane.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Dark Wings

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

So it's one final chapter of letters again friends. This one is going to be different from the first few. First, if you notice, they're not all from Evelyne and Jaime, there's some others thrown in.  
Second, to avoid any confusion, if there is no "signature" at the end of the letter ... it didn't get sent. You'll see what I mean.  
Enjoy!

* * *

 _Chapter Thirteen: Dark Wings,_

 _Evelyne,  
_ _Oh my dear friend! I wish that you had stayed for the tournament at Harrenhal and not just because your brothers were furious when they found out that you had left. But because you and I could have spent the ten days together. And then I would have less to tell you.  
_ _I don't know why you left, but I thought that I heard Asher say something about Ser Jaime Lannister. You were always so careful not to let slip what you felt for him, but I worry that you had fallen in love with him and that his rise to King's Guard was more than you can handle. If that was the case I wish you would have told me. I could have made up all sorts of stories about why you shouldn't love him.  
_ _They wouldn't have been true, but they would have made you laugh.  
_ _Now we will both have to settle for my account of the tournament instead.  
_ _As you know, the young Lady Whent was named the Queen of Love and Beauty at the beginning of the tournament. Lord Whent's four sons were to defend her title, but all four were knocked out of the running on the first day. Some of them by your own brothers.  
_ _The jousting lasted five days. The final match ups went as follows:  
_ _A strange knight that I have never seen before, they called him the Knight of the Laughing Tree defeated the knights from House Haigh, House Blount, and House Frey only to disappear before the final day of jousting. It was a bit of a mystery.  
_ _But the clear champion was Prince Rhaegar. He defeated Lord Yohn Royce, my own brother Brandon, Ser Arthur Dayne, and on the final tilt Ser Barristan Selmy.  
_ _You would have enjoyed watching him ride.  
_ _At the end he got to choose a new Queen of Love and Beauty, we all thought that he would choose his wife. But it was me that he presented the crown of winter roses to.  
_ _I shouldn't have accepted it, he has a wife and I am promised to Robert. But he is my prince and he wished to honor me. Tell me, Ev, what would you have done?  
_ _I can hear you now. "I would have accepted the crown, but I'm not promised to anyone."  
_ _This is why I needed you there.  
_ _I danced with him at the final ball. And he recited the most beautiful poem about a knight and the woman he loved. And my heart broke, he spoke with such pain that you could almost imagine that he was a jilted love.  
_ _I know you're scoffing at me, Ev, you were never one for poems and love stories. But you have also never been in love. You will understand one day when you find someone worthy of your love.  
_ _I promise you that.  
_ _Please write soon, Ev, I need your advice.  
_ _Lyanna._

-.-.-.-.-

 _Lady Evelyne,  
_ _At Harrenhal you told me that perhaps one day we would meet again and I would tell you of all my White cloaked adventures. As of now I have no adventures to share with you. I've done little but guard the queen. I have not left the Red Keep in weeks.  
_ _But more importantly, I have not stopped thinking of you and regretting how we left things.  
_ _You must understand, Evelyne, that I did not want to leave you. I would have chosen you over the King's Guard, without a second thought. But you never gave me that chance. You made your decision and said your goodbye before my mind had even caught up with what was happening. When I said your name I was not going to apologize to you and tell you that I could not ask you to marry me. I was looking to you, hoping, praying to the Seven that you would tell me that you wanted me to choose you.  
_ _Instead you told me to join the White Cloaks and then you were angry with me when I did.  
_ _I suppose that what I am want to say is that we are both to blame for our current circumstances. And that I cannot bear the thought of you hating me. Please, you have to understand.  
_ _No matter what happens, I wish you well.  
_ _Yours, always.  
_ _Jaime Lannister_

-.-.-.-.-

 _Lyanna,  
_ _You wonderful, beautiful, little fool! Prince Rhaegar has a wife! You are betrothed to Robert Baratheon, your brother's closest friend. And you spent the whole tournament mooning over the crowned prince.  
_ _Perhaps I should have stayed at Harrenhal just to save you from your self.  
_ _As for the lovely poem he recited, I heard from my brothers that you did more than break your heart. They said you cried and that Brandon made fun of you for it so you poured wine over his head.  
_ _I only need to imagine it and I'm smiling. Though I do wish that the next time I visit Winterfell you reenact it. Brandon deserves wine poured over his head more often.  
_ _You need not worry about me and my heart, dear one. I left the tournament not because of a broken heart but because I was homesick. I have taken too many trips south over the last year, I was beginning to forget what Ironrath looked like and I needed to return to it. Nothing more, nothing less.  
_ _Just a pathetic girl, homesick for the North.  
_ _But now I am back home and happier than ever and if I ever feel sad I only need to close my eyes and imagine you pouring a goblet of wine over your brother's head and then I am laughing like a fool.  
_ _Thank you, Lyanna, for the joy.  
_ _Evelyne_

-.-.-.-.-

 _Lady Evelyne,  
_ _My father and your father have come to an agreement. Though it has taken several years I believe that it is favorable for both sides. Even with that agreement between my Lord Father and yours I felt it only right that I write to you and ask for your hand.  
_ _I will never be Lord of Winterfell, that is an honor reserved for Brandon, but my father has promised us a keep halfway between Winterfell and Ironrath. There we will be close to both of our families. I'm sure that you will be comfortable and content. And when the time comes I am sure you will do your wifely duty with grace.  
_ _Please write soon with your answer, my mother is eager to make plans.  
_ _Yours,  
_ _Eddard Stark._

-.-.-.-.-

 _Lord Eddard,  
_ _You presume too much, my lord. Your mother is eager to make plans, but I have not even given you my answer ..._

 _Lord Eddard,  
_ _You speak of our future home. You speak of our future. You speak of my wifely duty and my comfort, but you never speak of love ..._

 _Lord Eddard,  
_ _I love Ser Jaime Lannister. I promised him my hand before the tourney at Harrenhal where he chose the King's Guard over me. Even though he is happy, he has his dream, and I should forget him I am unable to forget how I feel about him.  
_ _It would be unfair to agree to be your wife when I could never love you and I am sure that you could never love me ..._

 _Lord Eddard,  
_ _I should say that your question is an honor.  
_ _I should say that I would love to marry you.  
_ _I should say that I love you.  
_ _But I cannot say any of those things ..._

 _Lord Eddard,  
_ _No, I cannot marry you ..._

-.-.-.-.-

 _Lady Evelyne,  
_ _Please write back to me. I need to know that you are alright.  
_ _I worry about you.  
_ _Jaime_

-.-.-.-.-

 _Ev,  
_ _You have not given Ned your answer yet.  
_ _Please say yes. We could be sisters!  
_ _Lyanna_

-.-.-.-.-

 _Lord Eddard,  
_ _I thank you, my Lord, for taking the time to write to me and ask me for my hand. There aren't many men in Westeros who would have done that. Many would have simply waited until my father told me the news and brought me to Winterfell.  
_ _This is just one example of your kindness and generosity, something I am sure I will see much more of over the years.  
_ _Please tell your Lady mother that my own mother is as excited and ready to make plans as she is.  
_ _I only ask that you allow me half a year to spend with my family and acquaint myself with the idea of our marriage. This betrothal seemed so far off that I am sure you understand what a surprise it is now.  
_ _Thank you.  
_ _Yours,  
_ _Evelyne._

-.-.-.-.-

 _Jaime,  
_ _I am not certain if you have heard yet, news takes so long to travel from the North. But Father has heard so I suppose it will only be a matter of time before the news reaches the Red Keep.  
_ _Lady Evelyne Forrester and Lord Eddard Stark are betrothed. I suppose it was only a matter of time. There were whispers of it at least a year ago at the Tournament at Crakehall, remember?  
_ _I know you were fond of her. I thought you would want to know this news, so that you might send her your congratulations.  
_ _Your loving sister,  
_ _Cersei_

-.-.-.-.-

 _My love,  
_ _I was so happy to receive your last raven.  
_ _And I only have one word in answer to your request.  
_ _Yes.  
_ _Yes, I wish to be with you always. I simply don't understand how we can be. You have a wife, my love, and you cannot set her aside for me. Even my romantic heart knows that.  
_ _Yours,  
_ _Lyanna_

-.-.-.-.-

 _Evelyne,  
_ _I hear from my sister that congratulations are in order. It appears that you will be a Lady Stark after all. You must be pleased. It was what you had always wanted after all.  
_ _Do your remember our first walk in the Godswood at Crakehall? I told you that I wanted to join the King's Guard and you told me that you wanted to marry an honorable Northman so that you would never have to leave home.  
_ _And you will. Congratulations, my lady  
_ _I only hope that you are content with the luke warm, proper version of love that Ned Stark will be able to give you. I only hope that you will be able to forget the feelings I awoke inside you when I promised you my heart. I only hope that you won't regret your choice.  
_ _In short, I wish happiness.  
_ _And as much warmth as possible in what will, no doubt, be a cold, loveless marriage.  
_ _Jaime_

-.-.-.-.-

 _Ser Jaime,  
_ _You are cruel, Ser. You join the King's Guard, take your oath and then become angry with me when I continue to live my life.  
_ _My only regret is ever thinking I loved you ..._

 _Ser Jaime,  
_ _My marriage, cold and loveless or otherwise, is no concern of yours Ser ..._

 _Ser Jaime,  
_ _Ned Stark will make me happier than you ever could ..._

 _Jaime,  
_ _I miss you ..._

-.-.-.-.-

 _Evelyne,  
_ _I know that you will be traveling to Winterfell soon, but I cannot wait to tell you this news. You see, when you arrive at Winterfell I will not be here. I cannot tell you where I will be, I can only tell you that I will be safe and happy.  
_ _You see, I have met a man I love. One that I cannot live without. And he cannot live without me. We're eloping. He's leaving his wife and coming to Winterfell. We will meet in the Wolfswood and he will take me away from here. I know you will think me a fool, but I do not care. I am in love and I would do anything to be with this man. I only wish that you felt the same way for my brother.  
_ _I'm not worried about you telling anyone, but as a precaution I will not send this raven until the night I leave. Then it will be too late for even you to stop me.  
_ _Do not worry about me. I will write to you when we are settled.  
_ _Lyanna_

-.-.-.-.-

 _Ser Gregor,  
_ _I am calling the sons of our banners. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen has dishonored my family in the worst way. He has ridden to Winterfell and in the middle of the night he has stolen my sister.  
_ _I will ride to King's Landing and demand that the king make his son return with my sister and face justice.  
_ _Ride with me,  
_ _Brandon Stark_

-.-.-.-.-

 _E,  
_ _I know of what happened with Lyanna Stark and the prince. I know she is your friend, I know your family is sworn to House Stark. But I beg you to tell your brothers to stay as far away from King's Landing as possible.  
_ _The king, what they say is true. He is mad ..._

-.-.-.-.-

 _Ev,  
_ _I miss you.  
_ _I should have told you that in my last letter.  
_ _J_

-.-.-.-.-

 _Lord Forrester,  
_ _Your two eldest sons have committed treason by riding to King's Landing against my family and my son.  
_ _You and your youngest heir are commanded to ride to King's Landing immediately to answer to your sons' crimes.  
_ _Lord Owen Merryweather  
_ _Hand of the King_

-.-.-.-.-

 _Jaime,  
_ _I suppose I am writing to you as a bit of a warning. This raven will reach you in King's Landing before I do and the last thing I want is my arrival to come as a surprise.  
_ _As you probably know, as a member of the King's Guard, my brothers have ridden down to King's Landing with Lord Brandon Stark to demand justice for Prince Rhaegar's kidnapping of Lyanna Stark. The king has named this action treason. And he has demanded that my father and his youngest heir ride to King's Landing to answer for my brother's crimes.  
_ _I'm sure that the Hand of the King, Lord Owen Merryweather, meant for Asher to ride south with my father. But we Northerners have always done things differently. The women of Bear Island fight just as fiercely as their men. It is time that the Forrester women learn to fight as well.  
_ _And so it will be me who will ride with my father.  
_ _Perhaps all of this is for naught, perhaps I will not even see you. But I felt it only right that I warn you all the same.  
_ _I hope you are well,  
_ _Evelyne Forrester_

-.-.-.-.-

 _Ev,  
_ _DO NOT COME SOUTH.  
_ _PLEASE.  
_ _Jaime_

* * *

Author's Note:

And just like that, I bring our two lovers back together. And throw in some drama along the way. What did you guys think of this chapter?  
Loved it? Leave a review.  
Liked it? Leave a review.  
Kind, but constructive criticism? Leave a review.  
Hated it? What are you doing here? Leave. No review for you.  
Just kidding.  
Anyway, thank you so much for stopping by and reading. And thank you in advance for all the feel good reviews I know you're going to leave me. You guys are wonderful!

 _snoowbunnie:_ I'm sorry dear! I don't mean to be a cruel person. You just have to trust me. I know what I'm doing over here!

 _HPuni101:_ He ruins it! (And I just typed that with Gollum's voice in my head ... nerd alert) Anyway, I'm glad you liked the last chapter and I hope you enjoyed this one as well!

 _Guest (1):_ You are a wise one, the other Targaryen is in fact the Mad King. You are the only person who noticed that he greeted Jaime the same way that Evelyne did. So "well met" to you, dear friend!

 _Ying and Yang - Balance:_ No sad faces! You gotta trust me. I know what I'm doing!

 _calh:_ Yeeesssss! I'm laughing over here at the sheer amount of "No!"s I've received from the last chapter. Don't worry, they're going to find each other again. Though Evelyne might not be happy when they do.

 _The Mikaelson Cupcake:_ Oh no! I was looking to bruise some hearts! Not break them or shatter them completely! I'm so sorry. (But in a way not ... I'm also doing a happy dance because I'm a bitch.)  
I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you enjoyed this one as well. As evidenced by the letters I don't think Jaime's going back to Cersei ... though she is by no means done causing drama. And as for Jaime becoming the Kingslayer ... you'll just have to wait and see. (Though I really want to tell you because I am in love with my plan.)

 _lilnightmare17:_ Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

 _JaxFromPlanetJukebox:_ That's how I get you guys. My stories start out cute and then once I have you hooked I kick up the angst factor! And I'm so glad that you got trapped. Thank you for your review.  
As for Jaime and Evelyne ... don't worry, I'm a sucker for love stories. And usually not the unrequited kind.

 _Guest (2):_ Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed up to chapter five and I hope you enjoyed the following chapters as well!

 _Guest (3):_ Are you the same guest from above or a different one? I can't tell. Anywho ... thank you so much for your review. I'm glad you're enjoying it and our fiery heroine. You read my other GoT story too? Aww! Thank you for rating them 10 out of 10s!

And that's all I've got for now friends!  
Go, live your wonderfully fun lives. Jaime and Evelyne will back on Friday!  
Until then,  
Chloe Jane


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Close Your Eyes

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

 _Chapter Fourteen: Close Your Eyes_

Jaime had fooled himself into thinking that Evelyne would listen to his warning. He had fooled himself into thinking that his raven got to her in time, that she was somehow able to persuade her father to stay in the North, to leave her brothers to the king.

He was a fool to believe it. But he did, up until the moment when the herald announced her presence to the king and his court.

"Your Grace," the herald announced. "May I present Lord Thorren Forrester and his daughter, Lady Evelyne."

He had been standing beside the king, trying his best not look bored, but for the most part staring at his feet when he heard her name. His head snapped up, searching her out, though it was not difficult, there was no one in King's Landing with her bright colored hair.

She looked every bit the Northern lady, laced into a long sleeved modest green dress, the dark green fabric made her hair look more red than usual. She looked beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful he had ever seen her. But he could barely appreciate her beauty, she was such an idiot. He had written to her and told her not to come and here she was.

He leaned forward, as if to take a step forward, but with a sharp look from Ser Gerald Hightower he stayed where he was. He glanced toward the king, the older man was staring at Evelyne as if he had never seen anything like her. _The hair_ , he realized belatedly. It was no secret that the king loved fire, and Evelyne Forrester was made of it.

He stared at her, willing her to look up and meet his eye. _You fool_ , he thought to her, _he's never going to let you go_.

But when she looked up she did not meet his eye, she did not even look at him. Her blue eyes focused on the king and no one else. Lord Owen, the new Hand of the King, was the first to speak, "Lord Thorren," he greeted her father, "you were ordered to bring your youngest heir to the capitol."

"If it pleases, His Grace, my daughter is my youngest heir," her father argued as he bowed to the king. Beside him Evelyne sank into a low, graceful curtsy. If Jaime had not known her so well he would have thought that she was completely at ease in the throne room, but he knew her well enough to recognize the tense set of her shoulders, to look for the slight shake in the hands that were fisted in her skirts. She was terrified.

"You have a third son, do you not?" Lord Owen asked. "You were meant to bring him."

"And he brought me instead," Evelyne told the Hand as she stood from her curtsy. "If you want my brother so badly, you will have to wait a moon's turn for him to ride down from Ironrath. I _thought_ you wanted someone to answer for my eldest brothers' actions, we have come to answer for them. I do not think it much matters whether it is a son or a daughter as long as the crime is answered."

Lord Owen bristled a bit, no doubt he thought that she was being disrespectful. Despite himself Jaime could not help the smirk that slipped onto his lips. She was so headstrong, his girl, her father never should have brought her to court. His smirk disappeared when he heard King Aerys laughing from the Iron Throne. _This_ was not the reaction he had wanted from the king. He did not want the king to be angry with Evelyne, but he had not wanted her to catch his attention either.

"Calm down, Lord Owen," Aerys ordered his Hand. "We must allow the Northmen their eccentricities. These strong men have always been more sensitive then they would have the rest of the Seven Kingdoms believe. And the lady Evelyne is a lovely creature, I am sure that she will be able to plead her brothers' case just as well as a son."

Evelyne smiled brightly at Aerys and Jaime regretted never sending her the letter when he warned her not to come south, he had told her that the king was mad, but he never sent the raven. Now she was here and there was nothing he could do to save her. She curtsied to the king again, "Thank you, Your Grace," she told him. "Would we be able to see them?"

It was Lord Owen who answered her, "Your brothers have been named traitors. They are being kept in the black cells and are allowed no guests." Jaime watched her brows furrow, no doubt she knew the stories of what happened in the black cells, she would be more worried about her brothers now than she had been before. "While you rode here they demanded a trial by combat. It will take place tomorrow at midday, you will see them then."

"Until then you will be our guests," Aerys told them, his tone sounded welcoming, but there was a glint in his eyes that told the truth of his statement. Evelyne and her father would not be allowed to leave the Red Keep until the king said they could.

 _If_ the king said they could.

...

She was waiting for him when he was finally relieved of his duty for the day. He had thought that he would have to look for her, but as soon as he left the throne room she had darted out from behind a pillar and grabbed his hand. "Come with me," she hissed at him as she started to pull him through the doors and out of the keep.

He did not say anything. He was afraid that she would let go of him if he did. He did not ask her how she knew her way out of the castle and to the gardens. He did not ask her why she had come.

Once they had reached the gardens she let go of his hand and moved away from him as if he had burned her. She sat down on a bench, she wouldn't meet his eye and when she spoke it was in a whisper, but he knew that it was for him. "I need to know who my brothers will be fighting tomorrow."

Jaime wanted to give her an answer, but he could not give her one. She and her father were the first of the Northern lords to make it to King's Landing. Her brothers would be the first trials. He had no idea who Aerys would name as his champion. He could only be sure of one thing, her brothers would not survive the day. "You shouldn't have come," he told her instead, hoping she knew what he meant.

"They'll die then?" she asked him with a nod. "That's certain?"

"They're traitors," Jaime told her. "Even if they somehow manage to come out of their trial the champion, they will not survive long. Aerys won't allow it."

" _Traitors_?" she asked, echoing his words, finally turning to look at him. "They didn't go to war against the king!"

"They marched against him," Jaime argued. "The entire Seven Kingdoms are sworn to King Aerys and they marched against him. As far as he is concerned they are traitors."

"They're also sworn to the Starks," Evelyne told him. "Prince Rhaegar ran away with Lyanna Stark. Brandon wanted justice. It was their duty to ride with him."

"And they will die for it," Jaime told her. His brows furrowed, something she had said caught his attention, "Prince Rhaegar _ran away_ with Lyanna? Her brother said she was _taken_."

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "That's what I meant," she told him.

He chuckled, "You're a shit liar, Evelyne," he told her. "I know you well enough to know that."

"She wrote me a letter," Evelyne told him. "Before they left. She told me that she loved him and that she wanted to run away with him. I didn't know it was the prince. I would have told someone if I had. Perhaps I should have anyway." She shook her head, "Perhaps I'm just as stupid as she is."

"You didn't get half the sons of the North killed," Jaime told her, meaning to comfort her. She scoffed, she didn't believe him. "You didn't, Ev," he told her, wishing that she would look at him. "But you shouldn't have come."

"I had to," Evelyne told him. "When my father and Asher were summoned something did not feel right. The king and his men already had two of our men, I would not allow him to have all of them. Asher _needed_ to stay in the North, out of their reach."

Jaime shook his head, his stupid, brave, willful girl.

"I don't know what he will do to you," Jaime told her, moving closer. "I don't know if he will ever let you leave."

Evelyne smiled ruefully at him and she stood up from her bench. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but the conversation was over. She inclined her head to him, "Thank you for your counsel, Ser Jaime," she told him. She started to walk away from him, but then she turned, her gaze flitting over him, over every inch of white plate that he wore, "You look good in white," she told him. "Though I think you looked more comfortable in red and gold."

He reached out for her, his hand closing around her wrist. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if his touch hurt her. "What do you want from me, Jaime?" she asked him.

"I want to know that you're safe," Jaime told her. "I want to protect you."

She smiled and pulled her wrist out of his grasp, "Your job is to protect the king," she told him. "You swore to do it all your life. I should be of little concern to you."

"But you are," Jaime told her, his voice a whisper.

-.-.-.-.-

She shouldn't have come, he was right. And she shouldn't have waited for him in the antechamber. She was a fool, and idiot, and she could _still_ feel his hand wrapped around her wrist. She could still feel him standing _so_ close to her. She could still hear him whispering to her that he was still concerned for her wellbeing.

 _But you are_.

She shook her head as she laced herself into her dress for the day. She shouldn't have been thinking about him. Her brothers were on trial today, for treason, and her mind kept going to a man that she would never be able to have. The evening before her father had asked some of his friends at court what would happen. Gregor would be on trial in the morning, Rodrick in the afternoon, and then the king would decide what was to become of the rest of House Forrester in the evening.

 _I don't know if he will ever let you leave._ That was what Jaime had told her the previous afternoon. She wondered, surely the lords and ladies of the court would not allow the king to keep her hostage here. She knew that during war times children of the crown's enemies were often kept as wards, a bribe for a rebelling House's good behavior. But this was not a war time. Her brothers had ridden with their friend to King's Landing to save his sister's honor. And today they would answer for their supposed crimes. There was no reason to keep her hostage.

"He was just trying to scare you," she whispered to herself as she finished tying the laces on the dark purple gown she had chosen. The purple made her hair stand out nearly as much her green gown had yesterday, and she had not missed the way the king's eyes often locked on to her hair. If he liked her hair so much she would use it to her advantage.

There was a knock at the door, no doubt her father, come to escort down to the throne room. "Coming," she announced as she slipped on a pair of shoes and quickly moved toward the door. She was surprised when she opened the door and found herself staring at none other than Jaime Lannister. "The Gods hate me," she whispered, wanting nothing more than to slam the door in his face.

"No, my lady," Jaime assured her. "It is me that the Gods hate. Not you."

"I did not realize that I was important enough to warrant an escort from a member of the King's Guard," Evelyne told him, her voice cold as she walked out of her chamber and allowed the door to close behind her.

"The king is very concerned over your well being, Lady Evelyne."

"That is very kind of him," Evelyne replied, she kept her voice light and airy as they began to walk through the corridor. She wondered where her father was, he had told her the night before that he would bring her to the throne room. She doubted he would have left her alone to Jaime Lannister.

Something glinted in Jaime's eyes, something that she could not quite read. "I'm not sure if it was kindness or cruelty, my lady," Jaime told her.

He was trying to tell her something, she had no idea what it was. He had sworn an oath to keep the king's secrets and he would do it, but he was trying to tell her something. She turned to look at him for a moment, her eyes scanning over his white cloak and armor and coming to stop on the sword belt around his waist. She stepped away from him, her lips parting in horror, "Mother have mercy," she whispered, staring at the man she still loved as if he had suddenly grown a second head. "You're his champion aren't you?"

Jaime turned his head toward her, his brows furrowed for a moment as if it took him a bit longer to understand the conclusion she had jumped to. It only made sense, he said that the king was cruel, what could be crueler than sending his champion to escort her to her brother's trial by combat? He took a step forward, his arms outstretched, reaching for her and she countered with a step back.

He shook his head, "Ev," he told her, his voice a whisper. "Even if he asked me, even if he ordered me to. I would never do that to you."

"He's your king," Evelyne countered. "You've sworn to protect him and obey his orders. If he ordered you to be his champion, you would. If he ordered you to kill every member of my House, you would. No matter how much you regretted it. I am not the only shit liar Jaime."

Jaime watched her for a moment and she saw it even if he couldn't. Her words were the truth. His hands dropped to his sides and he looked away, his green eyes darkened with anger. "We'll never have to know," he told her. "I am not the champion. Just your escort."

"Then by all means, _escort_ ," Evelyne ordered sarcastically, gesturing toward the empty corridor in front of them. "Do your duty, Ser Jaime. You _always_ do."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Jaime was close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body but he never touched her. The throne room was full of lords and ladies, the other six members of the King's Guard were there to guard the king. The Hand of the King stood on the dais. But no matter where she looked, she could not find her father. "Something's not right," she whispered her head turning wildly as she looked for her father.

Jaime stood stiff beside her, "I'm so sorry, Evelyne," he whispered. And in those four words she knew. There was a reason her father had not been there to escort her to the throne room; there was a reason she could not see her father now. Something had happened to him. Something horrible.

Before she could ask Jaime what _exactly_ he was sorry for, Lord Owen spoke up, "Bring them out," he ordered two of the gold cloaks who stood, ready and waiting, by the back doors. She watched with wide eyes as the guards opened the doors and led in not only her older brother Gregor, but her father as well.

"My father has not committed a crime," she whispered, her eyes never leaving her father's face. "Why is he in chains?"

"He let your brothers ride south on the king," Jaime told her, his lips barely moving. People were watching them now, he couldn't be too friendly with her. "That was an act of treason on its own. The king wants him tried as well."

"And who will they fight?" she asked, finally turning away from her father to look at the empty space before the throne. She watched a pair of old men in robes that were more rags than robes. Each one held a pot in his hands. "Who is the champion for House Targaryen?"

But even as she asked the question she realized that already knew the answer. There was a dragon on the king's sigil. And dragons breathed fire. There were no more dragons, but there were other ways to create fire.

She felt as if she was stuck to the floor as she watched the guards extend her father's arms above his head, hooking the shackles to a hook that hung from the ceiling so that he was hung off the ground, his toes not even touching the stones. They did the same to her brother.

"This is no trial by combat," she heard Jaime whisper beside her.

His voice was full of disgust.

But she could not answer him. All she could do was stand, rooted to the floor, and watch with wide eyes as the two men removed the lids from their pots and poured a strange, green liquid over her father's and brother's heads.

Once both were covered the men moved the empty pots away and each of them moved in on her father and Gregor. Lord Owen, the Hand of the King, stepped forward, placing himself before the two Forrester men, but far enough away from them that he would be safe. "In the sights of Gods and men, we gather to ascertain guilt or innocence of these men, Thorren and Gregor, of House Forrester. May the Mother grant them mercy. May the Father give them such justice as they deserve. May the Warrior guide the hand of our champion. May the Maiden comfort those who might mourn them. May the Smith give them strength. May the Crone light their way. And may the Stranger greet them on the other side."

Evelyne's heart stopped beating, it was a prayer she had heard many variations of throughout the years. Her father did not keep the New Gods, but her mother did. She knew the words. But _this_ time it seemed that the Hand was praying for her father and brother as if they were already dead. As if there was no way they would survive this pretend trial by combat.

Her father's blue eyes darted up, searching the crowd for her. She saw them fill with tears when his gaze landed on her face. As the two older men moved closer to him and Gregor a large match in each of their hands, Thorren's gaze flitted to Jaime, a silent command.

"Close your eyes, Evelyne," Jaime ordered, his voice hard and cold.

She obeyed, but even with her eyes closed she heard when the two men struck their matches.

* * *

Author's Note:

And this is why we can't have nice things! At least not in the GoT universe.  
Sorry to break it to you guys, but even thought Evelyne and Jaime are together in King's Landing they're in for a rough couple of chapters.  
Very rough.  
But so much fun to write!  
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And I thank you in advance for the wonderful reviews you guys are going to leave me. (Just so you know, I have the next five chapters of this story written ... and reviews tend to make me update faster. So depending on your response to _this_ chapter you might get an update tomorrow. It's really all up to you!)

 _green-eyed storywriter:_ Oh, poor Jaime. Caught between doing his king's bidding and the woman he still very much loves. He's gonna have a time of it. So Evelyne _did_ get Lyanna's last letter, but Jaime is the first she's told about it. We'll have to wait and see how she deals with that. I'm so glad that you love this story and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much for your review!

 _Bella-swan11:_ Unfortunately, I think we're headed toward war, my friend, but only time will tell.

 _lilnightmare17:_ Thank you so much! I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you enjoyed this one as well. (Be prepared ... if you can't already tell, the next one's a doozy.)

 _The Mikaelson Cupcake:_ You have no idea how excited I am to know that that was a surprise to people. I figured that people knew that she was headed to King's Landing at some point. But whether surprised or not, I think we're all going to regret that she did. (Except for me because I'm the puppet master and as much as I love love stories I love making characters suffer first.)  
Trust me, you should be nervous.

 _outlawwoman:_ And I'm so glad I surprised you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

 _calh:_ Thank you! Did you love this one? Or is it making you nervous?

 _Guest:_ You guest friend, are spot on. And so Jaime ... the Mad King's not going to let her go. And at least two members of her family don't look like they're going to come out of their trials alive. But maybe ... who am I kidding? It's the Mad King, there's very little room for maybe.

 _EarthBorn93:_ She does not have an army, Evelyne is in a position where she could not call one. And unfortunately, now that she's in King's Landing she might not be allowed to leave. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

That's all I've got for now, friends.  
I'll see you back here soon!  
Chloe Jane


	15. Chapter Fifteen: For a Forrester

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

 _Chapter Fifteen: For a Forrester_

When the pyromancers threw their lit matches on Thorren and Gregor Forrester there was a moment when the entire throne room seemed to stand still. There was no sound, no one even breathed. But then, the flame of the match caught some of the wildfire on Lord Thorren's doublet and with a roar his entire body went up in flames. All Jaime could see was green, a bright blinding ball of green fire where Evelyne's father had been hanging.

Her brother Gregor went up in flames a bit more slowly, he had a moment to watch as his father was engulfed in the green flames before he too was alight. The two of them hanging from the rafters, two glowing green infernos.

Jaime looked away, glancing at Evelyne. She had followed his orders, her eyes were closed. But they were squeezed shut, like a child that was afraid of opening her eyes to a dark a room, imagining all sorts of monsters in the shadows. Her shoulders were tense and lifted toward her ears, her hands clenched into fists and shaking.

He could remember all the times they had talked when he had teased her for her armor. For the way she used disdain and teasing to protect her heart, to keep people at a distance. Now he wished that he could give her true armor, something to guard her body, her heart, her mind, from what had just happened.

He wanted to reach out and touch her, to hold her hand and whisper to her that it would all be alright. But he couldn't. He was a member of the King's Guard and her father and brother were being tried for treason. As much as he loved her, he could not be seen giving her comfort, it would be read as a condemnation on the king's actions. He wondered if he were brave enough to reach out for her, regardless of his position, if she would even accept his comfort. He wondered if she would ever be able to look at him again.

The flames had lost their bright green light, they were fading, disappearing now that there was nothing left to burn. Jaime glanced at the king, wondering what Aerys thought of his spectacle. The old king sat on his throne, his brow furrowed, there was no smile on his lips, even though the two traitors had been _tried_ and clearly found guilty. _He's disappointed_ , Jaime realized. The wildfire was too fast, the men did not suffer, they did not burn for long. The throne room barely smelled like a fire.

The Mad King's gaze drifted from the two, now empty, hooks that hung from the ceiling to Evelyne. His brows were still furrowed, but after a moment the left corner of his lips turned up into a sort of smile. Whatever he now had planned for Rodrick, it would not go as quickly. Jaime knew that. He could _feel_ it.

"Open your eyes, child," the king called down to Evelyne. Jaime felt bile rising from his stomach. The king's voice was soft and comforting. Even suspicious and scared Evelyne would want to trust it. "It's all over now," he promised her. "Your father and brother have been judged by the Gods."

He was standing so close to the woman that he _felt_ her deep, shuddering breath before she opened her eyes. He could sense her confusion as she glanced from one empty hook to another. The wildfire had worked so quickly, burned so hot and ferociously that there were no ashes, no charred bones, nothing, not even the ropes that had held her father and brother secure to the hooks on the ceiling rafters. They had simply disappeared, carried away with the smoke. She turned her head to look at Jaime, he expected tears to shine in her bright blue eyes, but he saw something else. Something worse. _Hope_.

She thought they had survived. And she was looking to him for confirmation. His chest tightened, so much more so then it had the day at Harrenhal when she ordered him to join the King's Guard and said goodbye to him. He closed his eyes for a moment, he couldn't take the hope in her eyes. But she deserved more from him, if he had to tell her that her father and eldest brother were dead, then he would do it with both eyes open.

He opened his eyes and took one last second to appreciate how beautiful she was and then he shook his head.

The tears he had expected at the beginning came quickly now. They sprang to her eyes almost instantly. Her blue eyes went from clear to glassy in the matter of a second. "No," she whispered shaking her head. "No. No. No." Her voice was louder now, getting louder with every word. She went from whispering to practically yelling in those four words. "They can't be gone!" she told him. "They were innocent."

The throne room was silent. The lords and ladies of the court, no doubt frightened by what they had just witnessed were too afraid to speak at all, let alone offer comfort to the daughter of a man who had just been executed for treason.

"Evelyne," Jaime whispered to her, the King's Guard be damned. He could not stand the pain in her eyes or her voice. It was going to tear him apart. He reached out for her wrist, but she shook her head and moved away from him.

"They were innocent!" she yelled again, turning her teary-eyed gaze on the king. "That was no trial by combat! You set them on fire! How are they supposed to prove they are innocent in a trial by fire?"

The king smiled at her, "If they were innocent they would not have burned, my lady." His voice was still eerily calm. He had not gotten the enjoyment he expected while watching Lord Thorren and Gregor burn, but he was enjoying Evelyne now.

"I bet _you_ would burn!" Evelyne yelled at him. The court gasped, there were some whispers now. Jaime stared at Evelyne with wide eyes, he wanted nothing more than to clap his hand over her mouth and order her to be quiet. But she would bite his palm and keep yelling, he knew that. "If I strung _you_ up on those chains and set _you_ on fire, you would burn too! What does that say about your innocence, Your Grace?"

"Treason," he heard Lord Owen murmur, the man's cold dark eyes never leaving Evelyne's face. "The lady speaks treason."

The king ignored his Hand. "I am the blood of the dragon," he told Evelyne, his voice getting louder, stronger, he was no longer calm. "A dragon cannot burn."

"Your Grace," Lord Owen spoke up again, louder this time. "The lady speaks treason, you cannot allow it to go unpunished."

"Yes!" Evelyne cut in before the king could say anything, she moved forward, toward the center of the open space before the throne where her father and brothers had hung not long before. The King's Guard on the steps tensed, ready to protect their king. Jaime wondered what they meant to do, what threat an unarmed girl could be to their king. "I speak treason! Much more so than my father and brother ever did!" The tears were silently streaking their way down her cheeks now. She did not try to wipe them away, she was too angry. "Why don't you chain me up and set me on fire too?"

"Guards!" Lord Owen ordered, no doubt intending to do just what Evelyne had suggested. To the left of the throne the pyromancers smiled wickedly. Ser Gerald Hightower, the Lord Commander of the King's Guard stepped forward toward the girl. But Jaime was younger and faster, he stepped forward too, his left hand wrapping around Evelyne's upper arm, his right falling to the pommel of his sword.

The Mad King's violet gaze fell on Jaime, on his hand that rested on the sword. He smirked. And then he held up his hand, calling for silence, causing every man or woman in the throne room to stand still and wait for his judgement. "Lady Evelyne," he spoke directly to the red-headed woman underneath Jaime's hand. "Lord Owen speaks true, what you have said is treason. I would be well within my rights as your King to have your tongue cut out of your mouth. But you are young, and naive to the ways of the world. I believe watching your father and brother's trial has been too much for your nerves. I am inclined to be forgiving."

Evelyne's jaw clenched, and Jaime could feel the muscles in her arm tense underneath his hand. He squeezed her arm as tightly as he could in warning, waiting until he heard her gasp of pain before he loosened his grip.

The king turned his gaze on Jaime, "Ser Jaime, return Lady Evelyne to her chambers. She is not to leave until this afternoon for her brother Ser Rodrick Forrester's trial."

-.-.-.-.-

He walked behind her, a step and just off to the right. Her shadow dressed in white plate and cloak. He had kept to her request, he did not say a word, but she still heard him. She could hear him breathe, out of the corner of her eye she could see the sunlight glinting off his armor, and she could feel him, his eyes never left her back. He had been silently following her since the king had ordered that she be removed from the throne room.

He had spoken once on the way back to her chambers, only to say her name. Perhaps he meant to say more, but she had not allowed it. She turned on him, her eyes narrowed into a glare. _Don't you dare_ , she had hissed at him. _Don't you dare speak a word to me_.

 _What would you have me do?_ That had been his question to her. And with it, a million thoughts had sprung to her mind. He could have never joined the King's Guard. He could have spoken up on behalf of her father and brother. He could have cut them down from their chains and saved them. He could have attacked the king. He could have grabbed her and run from the room. They could have been on ship bound for the Free Cities by now, leaving all of this behind them. But he hadn't done any of them. Instead, he had stood by her side, still as a statue and silent as the dead.

 _Stay silent_ , she had instructed him, choking on her own tears as she looked at him. _You're so good at that, Ser Jaime_.

It might have been the tears in her eyes that made him listen, or perhaps the way her arms were wrapped around herself as if she were holding herself together. Or perhaps the silence was _easier_ for him. But whatever the reason he did as she asked. He walked her silently to her chambers. He stood guard silently outside her door as she threw herself onto her bed and finally allowed herself to cry, loudly sobbing for the loss of her brother and her father. And when it was time to escort her back down to the throne room he had knocked on her door to get her attention, but remained silent for the walk.

She would have thanked him for it. But she didn't think she could open her mouth without crying. And she would not allow the king to see any more of her tears. She would be stone when they walked into the throne room. She knew now what to expect for Rodrick. The king would not catch her by surprise. Not this time.

And yet, he did.

His men had been hard at work after she left the throne room. The lords and ladies of the court were more tightly squeezed together around the outside edges of the hall. It seemed that Rodrick would not be chained and hung from the ceiling. There was a stake in the middle of the open space in front of the iron throne, and wood piled around it. Rodrick would be burned at the stake.

Evelyne let out a shuddering breath when she saw the wood. "Seven hells," she whispered, in spite of herself tears sprang to her eyes.

Jaime broke his silence. "What is it?" he asked her, glancing between the wood and herself several times. "Evelyne, what is it?"

A shadow of her former self wanted to scoff at him and his question. She wanted to ask him if he thought realizing that her brother was going to be burned to death was not enough to cause her to curse. But no, what Aerys had planned for her brother was so much worse. "That's ironwood," she whispered to Jaime, nodding toward the pile of wood.

"Are you certain?" Jaime asked, glancing back at the wood pile as the king entered the throne room and all the lords and ladies fell silent.

"I grew up on the edge of the only surviving ironwood forest in the Seven Kingdoms," Evelyne hissed at him, her lips barely moving as the king took his seat on his throne. "I imagine I know what it looks like."

The king smiled at her as he ordered for her brother to be brought forward. Under the pretense of looking at the lords and ladies behind her Jaime turned toward her, blocking her view of the stake as the guards tied her brother to it. "You don't have to watch this, Ev," Jaime whispered to her.

"But I do," Evelyne answered, stepping away from him so that her view of her brother was unobstructed. " _This_ is for _me_. If I hadn't yelled at him he wouldn't be planning on burning my brother on a pile of ironwood. This is a warning to me. I have to watch it."

Rodrick was dressed in his armor, his guards had not told him what had happened to their father and brother. He had come to the hall, clearly expecting a _true_ trial by combat. As one of his guards removed his helm and the other tied him to the stake he turned his head wildly, looking for the king. "Your Grace?" he asked. "What is this?"

"It is your trial by combat, Ser Rodrick," the king crowed from his throne. "Why don't you ask your sister who the champion for House Targaryen is?"

Rodrick's head twisted again, this time back toward the hall in front of him. No one in the room had hair quite like Evelyne and it did not take him long to find her. "Ev?" he gasped out. "Why are you here? You should have stayed home, little sister."

Evelyne drew in a quick breath, she had not expected her brother to be worried about her. Not when he was about to be burned alive. He was expecting her to say something, and she had nothing to give him, nothing to comfort him with. "What are our words?" she asked him, cursing silently to herself when her voice shook.

"Iron from ice," Rodrick told her, his voice soft. He knew what was going to happen now. Evelyne nodded. "Iron from ice," he said again.

Lord Owen stepped forward, "In the sights of Gods and men, we gather to ascertain guilt or innocence of this man, Ser Rodrick, of House Forrester. May the Mother grant him mercy. May the Father give him such justice as he deserves. May the Warrior guide the hand of our champion. May the Maiden comfort those who might mourn him. May the Smith give him strength. May the Crone light his way. And may the Stranger greet him on the other side."

And then he struck a match and held it high above his head. Evelyne wanted to close her eyes, but she was all Rodrick had left, his eyes had yet to leave her face and she would not abandon him now. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin, staring straight ahead at her older brother. If he was iron, so was she.

After his dramatic pause Lord Owen dropped the match on the wood. And the entire throne room fell silent. Evelyne waited, sure that soon she would see the flames coming from the pile around her brother's feet. Soon she would hear the roar of the fire at it worked to consume him.

But nothing happened. The match burned itself out and all Lord Owen received for his trouble was a bit of smoke.

The same thing happened with his second match.

And his third.

And the handful he lit and threw down at once.

It was only then that Evelyne allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. Lord Owen had one match left. After the king had burned Gregor and their father Evelyne had asked him how her family was supposed to prove they were innocent against flames, he had told her all they needed to do was not burn. Rodrick had not burned. They would have to set him free.

Lord Owen looked as though he was about to strike his last match when he paused, staring at her for a moment before he turned back to the king, "Your Grace," he called out, his voice calm. "Something has just occurred to me."

"What is that, Lord Owen?" the king asked.

Evelyne glanced between them. The king _looked_ surprised that Rodrick had not started burning yet. Lord Owen _looked_ frustrated at his failed attempts. But they did not _sound_ surprised or frustrated. They sounded rehearsed. It was as if they were performing a play.

"We have surrounded Ser Rodrick with ironwood," Lord Owen explained to the king. "He is a knight after all, he deserved the honor. But ironwood is nearly impervious to flame. I have often heard it said that it will only burn for a Forrester."

Evelyne's blood ran cold. The king smiled at her, "For a Forrester, you say?" he asked his Hand. The man nodded, sneaking a glance in Evelyne's direction. The king's smile widened as she silently shook her head, "Lady Evelyne, would you do us the honor?"

She shook her head again, more violently, her hair flew around her like flames itself. "No," she whispered. "No!" she said more loudly when she realized that they had not heard her. "I won't do it. I refuse."

"You would refuse an order from your king?" Lord Owen asked her, his voice silky and almost deadly. "I would think after what you said in this very hall this morning you would be eager to prove your loyalty to King Aerys and House Targaryen."

She would have yelled at him. She would have screamed and told them all to go to the Seven Hells. But his voice stopped her.

"Ev," Rodrick called out to her from where he stood, ready to die. "Do it. I don't blame you. Do it and save yourself."

"I can't," Evelyne told him, shaking her head again. "I can't."

She had promised herself she would not cry in front of the king, but she could feel her tears, warm and wet sliding down her cheeks.

"You can," Rodrick commanded her. "I think I'm Lord Forrester now," he still did not know if their father and Gregor were dead. But Evelyne supposed her reaction was enough to give him his answer. "I say you will. What are our words?" he asked her, repeating her question to him just a few minutes earlier.

"Iron from ice," Evelyne cried as she stepped forward and too the already lit match that Lord Owen held out to her.

Rodrick nodded, "Then be iron," he told her. "Do it."

* * *

Author's Note:

I figured that tonight's episode might be a bit of a shit show, I might as well get your emotions prepared for it!  
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! And a huge, huge, **huge** thanks to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter. You are wonderful.

 _HPuni101:_ Bad things. That is what is happening now. As for the rest of the story you will have to wait and see. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, regardless of how bad it was.

 _The Mikaelson Cupcake:_ This one and the next one are going to be a bit rough, but after that it will be a little better. I'm sorry that I'm making you guys suffer, but it will be worth it. I promise. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter.

 _JaxFromPlanetJukebox:_ Oh yes! It's sad! And this one was worse. I hope you enjoyed it all the same!

 _Guest:_ Thank you so much for your review! I'm glad that you found this story and love it. As for Rodrick, the king is using him to control her, but he's not going to keep him alive. She's going to be more afraid of him after this though.

 _lilnightmare17:_ Glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. I sincerely hope that you enjoyed this one as well!

 _thebestpeopleinlifearefree:_ I'm so cruel because it's Game of Thrones and the Mad King. I have to be cruel. It's gonna be a bit before Evelyne catches a break, but she will. And Jaime will be there to help her until then.

 _fluffypinkunicorns001:_ Thank you! Of every type of review I always love the ones that compliment my writing style. So thank you. As for Ned and Evelyne, their betrothal is still a thing, though it might be a while before they can act on it. Hoster might want Ned to marry Catelyn, but he's not going to make any decisions until after the war. And he gave his word to Evelyne, so there's that.  
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

That's all I've got for now my darlings!  
I'll see you next week!  
Until then,  
Chloe Jane


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Abandoned

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

Angst. Angst. _Angst_.

* * *

 _Chapter Sixteen: Abandoned_

She had never thought about it before, she had no reason to. Until that morning she had never seen a man burned alive. And with the help of the king's wildfire her father and Gregor had burned so quickly that with her eyes closed she had not even noticed. They had disappeared, as if they were made of nothing but smoke. Rodrick, however, in his armor surrounded by the blue flames of their own precious ironwood, took longer to burn. The court stood silent and still as it took her brother almost two hours to burn.

Evelyne never took her eyes off her brother, she wasn't even sure if she blinked in the two hours that the king allowed the blaze to roar in front of him. Rodrick, to his credit, held on to his honor to the last. He never screamed, he never begged for mercy, he never even whimpered as he roasted in his armor.

She had never thought about it before. She had never realized that a burning man, a man roasting in his armor would smell much the same as roasting and eventually burning meat. If she were more callous she would have allowed for the fact that there was not much difference between a man and a boar. They were both made of meat, they would both cook in fire. But _this_ man had a face. And a mind. And they both belonged to her brother.

She wanted to be sick, but every time she felt the bile rising in her throat she swallowed it. She would not allow them to see that. She would not allow herself to dishonor her brother's memory when he had been so strong in the face of death.

When the king finally had the pyromancers put out the fire and clean up the remains she heard the lords and ladies of the court shuffling behind her. Now that her brother was gone she finally allowed herself to turn toward the court to watch them. They looked ashamed, no one would meet her gaze, many looked uncomfortable. She wondered how many would turn away the meat at their suppers that night.

She turned to look at Jaime last, wondering if he too would avoid her gaze. Part of her wished that he would, she did not know if she could bear to look at him, the knight sworn to protect this monster king. But part of her wished that he would. She so desperately did not want to be left alone in this terrifying city. She held her breath.

When she finally lifted her gaze to his face she found his green, feline eyes staring straight back at her. She breathed a sigh of relief. She was not alone. For a moment she forgot everything they had been through, she almost reached out for his hand. But then the king called her back. "Lady Evelyne Forrester."

She slowly dragged her gaze off of Jaime's face and turned forward to face the Iron Throne. He was smiling at her, cold, calculating, and wicked. He did not say anything else, only her name. He was waiting for her. She heard more than she saw Jamie shift slightly behind her and unnoticed by the king or anyone else in the throne room his hand fell to the small of her back, giving her what little comfort he could. She took a deep breath, drawing her strength from him before she stepped forward. His hand dragged across her back as she stepped away from him before it finally fell to his side. She stopped when she was standing directly in front of the throne, in the exact spot Rodrick had burned. "Your Grace?" she asked him, keeping her gaze down and away from his terrible face.

"Your father and your two eldest brothers have been judged and found guilty," the king called down to her from his throne. He was speaking softly, as if only to her, but his voice echoed through the hall, every lord and lady would be able to hear what he had to say. "A crueler king would destroy the House, root to stem, even the delicate flowers like yourself, but I am not a cruel king."

 _You are_ , Evelyne thought, glaring down at the floor in front of her. _You are the cruelest of them all_. She knew what he wanted, he wanted her to fall on her knees, to kneel before him in the spot where he had murdered her brother. To beg for mercy, for forgiveness, for kindness. To swear that she would do anything he asked if he would spare her life, if he would spare her House. But her House was already half gone, Asher and herself were the only ones left. And she would not dishonor her family name by begging for anything.

Her jaw tightened as she lifted her gaze from the floor to the Mad King's face. Silently waiting for his verdict. He had allowed fire to judge her father and her brothers. And now she would wait while he judged her.

There was a flicker of something in his violet eyes, something that she did not understand. He did not seem angry or displeased by her stubbornness. He looked as if he had expected it, as if he were pleased. Her right fist clenched at the thought that she had done something that pleased him when she meant to anger him. "You will write to your mother," he instructed her. "You will tell her that she is a widow now. You will inform Lord Asher that he is Lord of Ironrath, that he will write to us immediately with his vow of allegiance. Once you are done, bring the letter to Grand Maester Pycelle, he will send the raven."

She arched one of her eyebrows, "You do not want my brother to travel south to bend the knee here in King's Landing, Your Grace?" she asked.

She shouldn't have said it. She wouldn't have asked Asher to do that, no matter what the king ordered. And after what happened to her father and brothers, he wouldn't have been stupid enough to do it. If the king wanted to see Asher bend his knee, he would have needed to travel to Ironrath himself.

The king smiled, "That won't be necessary, Lady Evelyne," he told her, almost kindly. "You will do that for him." He turned in his seat, wincing as his arm caught on one of the barbs on the throne, tearing at his skin. He nodded toward his wife, Queen Rhaella. "You will remain here, in King's Landing. You will be a ward to the crown. You will be one of the Queen's ladies. We will see that you are well dressed, well-fed, well cared for. And when the time comes, we will choose a suitable husband for you."

"I'm to be held for ransom then?" Evelyne asked, stepping forward as the king stood from the throne, apparently done with the afternoon's proceedings. His sleeve was torn, his blood was coloring the fabric. Evelyne forced herself to look away from it, to stop imagining how she would feel if the blood was flowing from a wound in his neck rather than one on his arm.

Aerys turned to her, the smile that twisted its way onto his lips revealing his jagged teeth was wicked. "Lady Evelyne," he told her, stepping away from the throne so that he could approach her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, her fists shook with the effort not to pull away from him, not to let him see the potent mixture of fear and disgust that were battling in her chest and her bell with him so close to her. "There is nothing in the Seven Kingdoms that your House could give the crown that would persuade me to ransom you back."

"I'm to be held ransom for good behavior then?" Evelyne asked, her voice soft as she turned to stare at the king. There was a ring of red around his violet pupils. She could smell stale wine on his breath. "No harm shall come to me as long as my brother obeys your orders?"

The king nodded. "You understand," he praised her, as if it delighted him that Evelyne understood the way he played his games. "Make sure you see to it that your brother understands as well. I will not be so lenient the next time a Forrester marches on my throne." His violet gaze remained on her face for a moment longer before it drifted behind her, landing on Jaime. Evelyne took a deep, steadying breath and waited for him to command the Lannister knight to return her to her chambers. "Ser Oswell," her called out, dragging his gaze away from Jaime. "Please see Lady Evelyne safely to her chambers."

-.-.-.-.-

It was a month before Jaime saw Evelyne again. A month where all he heard were whispers. She wouldn't leave her chambers, she barely ate, her maid said that she had gone to her chambers and thrown everything she could break on the ground. She was inconsolable, they could hear her crying down the corridor, Grand Maester Pycelle had needed to make her rewrite her letter to her mother and brother three times because she refused to write what the king had wanted her to. They whispered that she was heartbroken, that she was sad, that she wanted to see the king dead.

He found her one day, sitting in the gardens of the Red Keep, staring out over the low wall toward Blackwater Bay. He moved toward her quietly, remembering the flash of fear he had felt when she had first walked into the throne room, his realization that Aerys was never going to let her leave King's Landing. Gods, he hated being right.

Bile rose in his throat when he looked at her and thought that mourning looked beautiful on her. The hair at each side of her face was braided back before meeting at the back of her head where all of her hair was braided together in a thick, loose braid that dropped over her right shoulder, her black dress made the hair look more like fire than he had ever seen it. She must have been hot, all laced into her high-collared, long sleeved northern dress. He knew that the king had sent her a seamstress who had made her several dresses in the southern style, this was not one of them.

She turned toward him as he walked closer. For a moment he thought she might smile, her lips started to turn up at the left corner, but then they stilled. Her blue eyes, once so full of fire looked dead as she stared at him.

He felt rooted to the ground, unable to move. He could not speak, he could not move toward her, he could not move away. All he could do was stand, held captive by her gaze as she judged him as harshly, if not more than, the flames had judged her own family.

After a long moment she looked away from him, her gaze returning to the bay below her. He would have thought she was a statue made of cold, unfeeling stone if it weren't for the shuddering breath, the way her shoulders shook with their effort to remain completely still.

With her no longer looking at him he was able to move forward. He hesitated when he was behind her, unsure if he should sit on the bench beside her or remain standing. She answered his unspoken question with a sigh, "You need not be uncomfortable, Ser Jaime," she told him, gesturing to the empty space on the bench beside her. "Sit. Please. I was just leaving."

He sat as she asked, taking care not to sit on her dark skirts. "I do not mean to chase you away, my lady," he told her. His speech was proper, stilted, emotionless. He hated it. It had not been so long ago that their conversations had been teasing, anger-filled at times, and passionate. He hated that the armor and cloak he wore now relegated them to polite conversations about nothing.

"You're not," she assured him. She glanced over her shoulder again, looking for someone in the garden that Jaime could not see. "It won't be long yet before she comes for me."

"Who?" he asked, curious.

"Lady Miranda Hightower," she told him, turning her head toward the sea again. She seemed determined not to look at him. Jaime could not decide what was worse, when she wouldn't look at him, or when she would. "Ser gerald Hightower's niece. She has been assigned to me by the king to keep me company." She scoffed, shaking her head bitterly, "to spy on me, most likely." She seemed to remember where she was, who she was speaking to because she sat up a little straighter, "The king has been most kind to me," she lied to him, the slight clench of her jaw the only sign that she did not like the taste of the words as they slipped out of her lips. "Most attentive to all of my needs before I even think of them."

Jaime's lips twisted into a rueful smirk. "You are lucky, my lady," he told her, misliking how bitter his own words tasted. "There are many who would wish for the attentions of the king."

She shot him a sideways glance, looking at his hands more than his face. "I am," she agreed with a tense nod. "Very lucky. I suppose I could have been killed with the majority of my family after all." She shook her head and shifted away from him slightly, placing as much distance between them as the bench would allow. "And then there are the King's Guard," she told him. "Sworn to protect the innocent." She finally glanced up. Her eyes no longer looked dead. They were hard, and cold. Steel and snow and icy wind. The fire in them made him shift in his seat. He knew now, it was much worse when she looked at him than when she didn't. "You do that job so well, Ser Jaime," she told him, her words cruel and biting.

She hated him then. He could see it in the set of her shoulders. In the clench of her job. He could hear it in her words. In the way her voice came out flat, no hint of the teasing he was so used to. He could feel it rolling off of her in waves. She hated the king for what he had done to her family and she hated him for standing by while it had happened.

He reached out for her hand, but she moved it into her lap before he could wrap his own around it. He wondered, if it would be as cold as the ice in her eyes or as burning as the fire in her hair. "What would you have me do, Evelyne?" he asked her, a quiet whisper. She had to know, she had to understand that if he had been able to do anything he would have done it in a moment.

She looked at him again, her mask still in place before it cracked and she shook her head. "Nothing, Jaime," she told him, using just his name for the first time since she had said goodbye to him at Harrenhal. "I wouldn't have you do anything differently. It would have only ended in more heartbreak for me. And I'm a selfish creature, I wouldn't want that for myself."

It was all he was going to get from her, a quiet, whispered confession that she still cared for him, that if he had died at the king's hand it would have hurt her. He appreciated it for what it was and wished that their circumstances were different, that she would have allowed herself to tell him that she loved him. And that he would have been allowed to return the words to her.

He glanced around the garden, trying to find something to distract her. He could not bring her brothers and her father back, but perhaps he could bring her smile back. "These gardens must be very different from the ones you're used to," he murmured, his gaze falling on the flowers around them.

She turned, staring at the flowers as if only seeing them for the first time. "They won't let me in the Godswood," she told him softly. "The guards gave me two weeks to mourn my father and my brothers the way I wished. But they seem to think that I will find mischief in the Godswood now, perhaps work some northern witchcraft. I was told last week that if I wished to continue mourning I would need to go to the sept."

"And did you?" Jaime asked her, trying to keep the conversation going even though it had taken a painful turn that he had not intended.

She shook her head, her jaw clenching. "I won't find them there," she told him. "Those Gods are yours. They weren't my father's, or my brother's. They aren't mine." She glanced around the garden before she stood from the bench and moved closer to the wall, staring down at the bay. She turned, her hands resting on the stone, "I've been thinking about your letters, Jaime," she told him.

Her voice sounded more like herself now. Her lips turned up at the corners. Jaime's blood ran cold though, something telling him that he should not trust this apparent happiness. "Any letter in particular?" he asked.

She nodded, her gaze finding the sea again, "I've been thinking about what it must have felt like to jump off the cliffs at Casterly Rock. To fly into the sea like a bird flies in the sky. What it would feel like to be free again."

Jaime stood quickly, moving to her side and grabbing her hand in each of his. "You will not, Ev," he warned her, his voice a sharp whisper.

She turned to him, an eyebrow arched, "And who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do, Jaime?" she asked him. "Are you my father? My elder brothers? What claim do you have over me"

"None," he told her honestly, still holding tightly to her hand. "I only know that I will never let you do that."

She opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by someone calling her name. They both turned to see a young brunette woman standing behind them, her brows furrowed as she watched the two of them, her gaze pointedly trained on Evelyne's hand held tight between both of Jaime's. Evelyne sighed and turned back to him. "And back to my chambers I go," she told him, her voice almost teasing, almost a song. "It appears as though you have won today, Ser Jaime."

He glanced at her for a moment before looking over her shoulder, judging how close the lady Miranda was. He released one of his hands from hers and lifted her hand to his lips, bowing low over it. "I cannot free you," he whispered to her, desperate in his hope that she would be able to hear him. "I cannot. But I will do whatever I can to help you. What do you need?"

She glanced at him for a moment, her suspicion made his chest tighten. And then, leaving her hand in his she sank into a curtsy, bringing her head close to his. "News," she whispered desperately. "They won't tell me anything."

Jaime nodded, releasing her hand with a squeeze. "I'll be here tomorrow," he promised her softly as she rose from her curtsy. "I will not abandon you, Ev."

She straightened and moved away from him, closer to Lady Miranda before she turned around, the dead look had returned to her blue eyes. "Don't you see, Ser Jaime?" she asked him. "I've already been abandoned."

* * *

Author's Note:

And I'm back. Back with heartbreak, and fire, and angst.  
Our two lovers are back together, but there is so much separating them. What's going to happen? Only I know! But I'll tell you now ... it's fantastic.  
Thank you so much, my dears. For reading. For adding this story to your alerts list. For adding this story to your favorites list. For reviewing.  
These updates are all for you!

 _Guest (1):_ Am I evil? Good. I meant to be. All the same, I hope you enjoyed this update!

 _snoowbunnie:_ I didn't mean to make you cry snoowbunnie! I'm so sorry. Don't worry, this story won't be sad for ever. It's going to have a pretty happy ending. As happy as can be expected in the GoT universe that is.

 _HPuni101:_ Lord Owen does have to go, thankfully none of Aery's Hands last very long. Unhappily ... each one is worse than the last. So there's that to look forward to. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

 _lilnightmare17:_ Thank you friend! I hope you enjoyed this one just as much!

 _The Mikaelson Cupcake:_ Thank you for your review. I'm glad that you're still enjoying the story despite all the shit I'm handing Evelyne. As for Aerys getting what is coming to him, it's going to be fantastic. I've already written it, it's just hanging out on my computer. And you guys are going to **love** it.

 _JaxFromPlanetJukeBox:_ This was another sad chapter. I hope you enjoyed it all the same though. Thank you so much for reading!

 _Guest (2):_ That's fair. Ned's a good guy, great even. Unfortunately for him, I can't give him anyone besides Catelyn. So he won't end up with Evelyn, though he will return.

 _Guest (3):_ Oh that would have been cruel! I should have made him order Jaime to do it. But the story would have ended so much sooner if I had. Because there is no way that Jaime would have done that, not with Evelyne standing there at least. He would have disobeyed and died for it. And I can't do that in a Jaime story.

 _Crystal-Wolf-Guardain:_ Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed. Here is the next chapter, a bit late. But better late than never, yes?

 _broken barriers:_ Huh! I had thought that I had labeled the story correctly. But apparently not, fixed now. I hope you're enjoying it!

That's all I've got for now lovelies!  
Have a fantastic day! See you in a week.  
Chloe Jane.


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Warnings

_Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)  
_ _I own Evelyne Forrester, nothing more._

* * *

 _Chapter Seventeen: Warnings_

She was wearing black again, the next day when she approached Jaime in the garden. It was a different dress from the previous day; but just as black, just as heavy, just as northern. Jaime rose from the bench he was sitting on when he heard her approach, he squinted up at the sun shining bright and warm onto the garden, "Surely you would be more comfortable in one of the dresses the king had made for you, my lady?" he asked her, his tone reminiscent of all the teasing conversations they had once had. He hoped that if Lady Miranda was following close behind Evelyne she might hear his tone of voice and assume that Evelyne was here for a light hearted stroll through the garden and nothing more.

Evelyne did not seem to appreciate his tone, whatever the reason behind it. She glanced up at him, her eyes narrowed. "None of the dresses the king had made for me were black," she told him as she moved closer to the bench and sat down, gesturing toward the empty space beside her without looking at him.

"You can't dress in black forever, Ev," he told her, his voice gentle and soft as he took the seat she had offered.

"I can wear it as long as I am here though," she countered, her lips turning up at one corner, the ghost of a smile. No matter how sad she still was over what had happened to her father and her brothers, she was unable to stop herself from falling into their old patterns. Jamie took it as a good sign, that he hadn't completely lost the woman he loved. She kept her eyes trained on the ocean before them as she asked, "You promised me news?"

She looked so uninterested that if anyone were to see them sitting together they would have thought that they were speaking of nothing more than the weather. Jaime for his part did not look at her either, he glanced down at his boots, leaning forward to scrape some dirt off of one of them with his fingernail. "Lord Rickard Stark is riding south to answer for his son. The other northern lords are coming for their sons too."

She still did not look at him, but as he cast a sideways glance at her he saw that her blue eyes had widened, they no longer looked dead - they were alert and slightly panicked now. "And does the king mean to put them on trial as he did with my father and brothers?" she asked.

Jaime nodded, thinking of the conversation he had overheard the previous evening when he stood guard over the king and Lord Owen. "Every single one," he told her in a whisper.

She shook her head. "He's mad," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "Absolutely mad." Her hands fisted in her lap. "I should send a raven to Ned," she started to stand. "He needs to know what will happen."

"You can't," Jaime told her, his voice more forceful than he meant it to be. His chest had tightened at the casual way she had said _Ned_. He hadn't stopped to think that the woman could love Ned Stark, but now he had to admit that it was a possibility. And she had been betrothed to marry the man once. The king would never allow it now, the daughter and sister of northern traitors marrying the son and brother of a separate group of traitors. He wondered if anyone had told her; he knew the king had told her that he would find her a suitable husband in time, but he wouldn't have blamed her for forgetting, she had been through a lot that day.

He forced his voice to soften when he spoke again. "You can't write to him, Ev," he told her. "Grand Maester Pycelle would never send the raven for you. And what's more, he would read the letter before bringing it to the king."

She was frozen in a half-seated, half-standing crouch when she turned her head to look at him. The way the sun glinted off her hair reminded him of a sunset, it did not so much shine as it burned. She shook her head slightly as she slowly returned to her seat on the bench. "He's been reading my letters?" she asked him.

"You've tried to send ravens?" Jaime asked, answering her question with one of his own.

She nodded slowly, "To my brother and to my mother," she told him. "Pycelle said that he would send them." She glanced up at him. "There was nothing treasonous in any of them," she promised him, as if he could speak to the Grand Maester on her behalf and persuade him to send the ravens. "I just wanted to hear from them, I needed to." She looked away and shook her head. "But I haven't received anything in return."

"And you won't," Jaime promised her. "He's not sending your ravens and he's not bringing you the ones sent to you."

"I've been sent ravens?" she asked raising an eyebrow, no longer attempting to hide her interest in the conversation.

Jaime looked away from her, silently reminding her to put her mask on again, to play at indifference. "Your brother Asher wrote to the king and begged him to release you. He offered himself up as prisoner in your stead. Aerys refused him."

For a moment he thought she looked heartbroken, but then she nodded. "Good," she told him. "Asher needs to stay in the North where he's safe. He can't come here. I'm not worth the trade."

"You're not safe here," Jaime warned her, his voice soft and gentle.

She turned her gaze back to the sea, but her shoulders were tense. "What will he do to me?" she asked. "What can he do to me? What can he take from me that he hasn't already taken? I lost my family, my freedom. What more is there?"

"Your virtue," Jaime answered in a breath. "Your life."

"He wouldn't," she argued, her voice sharp. "I am a ward of the crown, if it got out that he did something like that -" she cut herself off, shaking her head. "He can't."

"He can," Jaime told her, his voice grim. He did not enjoy this conversation any more than she did. His stomach twisted when he thought of standing guard outside the king's bedchamber when he assaulted Evelyne as he did his wife and many of her ladies on a nightly basis. "If you knew what he -" he stopped, cutting himself off. It was treason, what he had been about to say. He had sworn an oath.

She turned to look at him, her blue eyes silently begging him to finish his statement, to tell her what she didn't know. He opened his mouth, to hell with his oath when her eyes swept over him, her gaze landing on the path to his left. She didn't say anything, but her head shook, a subtle warning that someone was coming. He turned, expecting the Lady Miranda, the woman Aerys had sent to spy on Evelyne.

Instead it was a full group, Queen Rhaella and the rest of her ladies. Evelyne stood, her dark skirts rustling as she sank into a curtsy to greet the queen. Jamie stood beside her, bowing low. "Your Grace," Evelyne whispered. "Good day to you."

Rhaella smiled kindly at the girl. Evelyne may not have appreciated it, but Jaime did. Of all the people in King's Landing, Rhaella would be the one who understood how Evelyne felt. Trapped and alone.

"Good day to you, Lady Evelyne," the blonde Targaryen queen greeted her. She reached out, taking one of Evelyne's hands in her own and pulling the girl to her feet. Her violet eyes darted from Evelyne's dace to Jaime's and back again. "And Ser Jaime," she told him with a smile, "I see that you have come to check on our Northern guest as well. How is she?"

It wasn't Jaime's place to answer that question. He turned, inclining his head silently to Evelyne, inviting her to answer for herself. Her blue eyes locked onto his face for a moment before she turned her gaze on the queen. "I'm doing well, Your Grace," she told the queen with a tight smile. "The sunshine was too much of a temptation to pass up."

Rhaella nodded, "I have heard Northerners say that we southerners take the sunshine for granted," she told Evelyne. "I hope while you're here you will serve to remind us of how precious it is."

Evelyne nodded and gestured toward the path, "I will do my best, your majesty." She curtsied again and started to move past the queen and her ladies.

Rhaella nodded, "Ser Jaime?" she asked, turning toward the knight. "Would you please escort Lady Evelyne to wherever she is headed?" Jaime nodded, and started to follow Evelyne. She was walking quickly, she did not intend to wait for him. Rhaella's hand shot out, wrapping tightly around his wrist when he tried to pass her. "Ser Jaime," she whispered, her violet eyes darting toward her ladies to ensure that none of them could hear her. "His Grace is going to ask Lady Evelyne to join my ladies." Her eyes narrowed, "She cannot say yes."

Jaime did not need that instruction from queen, he was well aware of why Aerys might have wanted Evelyne in his wife's court. But he appreciated the warning. He nodded, "Your Grace," he told her, hoping the woman would know that he understood.

He nodded to the ladies and brushed past them, running until he caught up with Evelyne.

-.-.-.-.-

She stopped going to the gardens after that. She didn't want to risk running into the queen or any of the other lords and ladies that called the Red Keep and King's Landing their home.

Some of the lords and ladies barely spoke to her. She was a ward of the crown, the king obviously had some interest in her, but she was the daughter of a traitor. A little more than a moon's turn ago they had watched as Aerys had two of her brothers and her father burnt alive, all while calling it justice. They were afraid of her, afraid that the king would be suspicious if they spent much time with her.

Others treated her kindly, though many like the queen, insisted on speaking of her presence at the capitol as if it were visit. As if she were a welcome guest rather than a prisoner. They asked her about the differences between the South and the North. They asked her if she enjoyed the capitol. The queen invited her to think of the Red Keep as her home, told her that she was allowed to go anywhere she wished.

Anywhere _save_ the Godswood, as the king's men had made abundantly clear.

She could not stand either reaction, the practiced distance or the warm invitations. And so she avoided them all, whenever she could. Leaving her chambers only when absolutely necessary, or when the king commanded it.

It was Ser Gerald Hightower he sent to collect her a few days after she had run into the queen in the gardens. She opened the door to her chambers, half expecting to see Jaime and was surprised by the older Lord Commander of the guard. "Ser Gerald," she greeted the older man. "Well met."

She had heard a great deal about Ser Gerald from other members of the Kingsguard while they escorted her around the castle. It was said that the man was fierce and strong in spite of his older age, that when he had been a young man he was even stronger than Jaime Lannister was now. They said that he was stern, that he took his position in the Kingsguard seriously. They said he was not a man to be trifled with. It would seem that he was not a man for polite, pointless conversation either, if he had not been a member of the guard he never would have survived in the Red Keep. He did not place the courtier's game. He nodded to her, polite and distant. "His Grace requests that you join him for his evening meal," the man told her, his dark eyes drifting to her black mourning dress. "You will want to dress," he assumed, turning and moving away from the doorway so that she would have the time and the privacy to do so.

He was wrong in his assumption, she was perfectly content in her dark, heavy dress. She did not want to change. She did not want to put on one of the dresses the king had ordered for her. She did not want to try to impress him.

But Miranda had heard her uncle's voice. She heard his request. And when Evelyne closed her chamber door and turned Miranda had already selected a dress for her. It was dark blue, silk instead of the heavy wool she had grown accustomed to wearing since arriving in King's Landing. The neckline was scooped, it would show a hint of her cleavage, the sleeves were long, split open all the way up the front of the arms, forming a cape at the back of the dress. The inside of the cape-like sleeves were a light pink.

Evelyne shook her head, stepping back away from Miranda and the dress. She wasn't ready to give up her black dresses yet. And if she were, it wouldn't be for _that_. Miranda would not have it though, she shook her head as well, "The kind has noticed that you continue to dress in morning," she told Evelyne. "If you keep doing so, he will believe that you are sympathetic to the northern traitors."

"I'm sympathetic to my family's loss," Evelyne argued.

Miranda shook her head, "Trust me, my lady," she urged. "It will be safer for you if you stopped trying to stand out so much."

That caught Evelyne's attention. When Miranda had first arrived she had thought that the lady was there to spy on her. But here she was, urging Evelyne to attempt to blend in with the other lords and ladies in the court, trying to help her. "Why do you care?" she asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she watched the woman.

Miranda shook her head, "In truth, I don't, my lady. Not about you." She moved around Evelyne untying the laces to her black dress even though Evelyne had not given her permission to do so. "Do you know I was here in King's Landing before you arrived?" Miranda asked as she continued her work, stripping Evelyne of the black dress leaving her in only her shift until she grabbed the new dark blue one. "Three years," she answered when Evelyne did not. "My father sent me here, he believed that his brother, Ser Gerald would watch over me, and that _here_ in the capitol I would find a suitable man to marry."

"And you haven't," Evelyne supplied, not caring too much about sparing Miranda's feelings.

Miranda shook her head, "Finding a suitable match here is all about having the king's favor," she told Evelyne. "Great Houses marry other Great Houses in here in the south many matches are made only after they receive His Grace's approval. In the three years I have lived here the king never spared me a look."

"And you think with my star on the rise, he'll take notice of you?" Evelyne guessed.

Miranda nodded, tying the laces on her new dress. "He already has," Miranda told her. "He asked me to watch over you. To ensure that no one takes any indecent liberties with you." Evelyne swallowed around a lump in her throat, thinking of what Jaime had told her in the garden. She had asked him what more Aerys could take from her. _Your virtue_ he had answered.

Miranda walked around her, to take in the dress from the front. She nodded her approval. "And if you are too stupid to realize that it is in your best interest to have the king happy with you, then I will do it for you," she told Evelyne.

"What does it matter?" Evelyne asked, shaking her head. "Whether His Grace is happy with me or not? What does it matter? He won't let me leave. He won't return me to my family."

"But he could make your life so much worse," Miranda assured her. "You like to think of yourself as a prisoner here. But the truth is that you have your own chambers, you've been given free reign of the gardens and the public areas in the keep, you're fed, clothed, taken care of. He could make you a prisoner if he wanted. There are places in the keep that never see sunlight. He could throw you there. He could put you on trial like he did your father and brothers. At the moment he finds your stubbornness intriguing. He won't always."

And with that warning Miranda opened the chamber doors and brought Evelyne to her uncle so that he could escort her to the king.

* * *

Author's Note:

A bit of a filler chapter, but that's alright. Every story needs them. Even though they are often the hardest to write. Every time I sat down to write this chapter I got angry at myself, because while filler chapters are a necessary evil, they're one that I wish I could do without. Unlike Aerys who's going to play a fairly big role in the next chapter - he's a necessary evil that I like to play with. At Evelyne and Jaime's expense unfortunately.  
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. **HUGE** thank you to all of you who have added this story to your alerts, favorites, or reviewed. You patient, supportive people are wonderful.

 _JaxFromPlanetJukebox:_ Ah don't cry! This story is going to get much darker and heartbreaking before it gets better! Thank you so much for your review!

 _HPuni101:_ I'm so happy that you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope that you enjoyed this one as well! Aerys has a plan for Evelyne, though I'm not sure if marriage is necessarily the top objective at the moment. I'm playing with some rumors and theories about who Tyrion's father is in this story. ( **hint. hint.** )

 _lilnightmare17:_ Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed!

 _RandoFan:_ Well, I am glad to have shown you that you needed an OC/Jaime story in your life. Thank you so much for taking a chance on this story and I'm happy you're enjoying it. I hope you continue to do so!

 _Tigerlily3574:_ Oh no! Don't cry! Save those for later! You might need them!

 _Analu3003:_ Don't worry friend, Aerys has some plans for Evelyne that don't necessarily involve marriage, though that might not be much of a comfort. But, I am a sucker for happy endings so this story will probably turn out happily for Evelyne and Jaime, at least bittersweet if not happy! Thank you for your review! Hello Peru!

 _The Mikaelson Cupcake:_ Oh your heart is going to break a lot for Evelyne before the end of this story. But don't worry, Aerys will get his in the end. That I can promise you. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

 _EarthBorn93:_ I wouldn't fault anyone for screaming while roasting alive either. But the Northerners are stubborn, and his younger sister is there. I imagine that even with it being the worst pain Rodrik had ever felt, he wouldn't want to make it harder for Evelyne. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as the last! Thank you for reading.

 _Fyen:_ Thank you friend! I'm glad that the story is frustratingly good and I hope it continues to be! Thank you so much for your review!

 _Guest:_ You are the first person to suggest that. I won't tell you what I have planned for Aerys besides the obvious, of course he's going to die during the sack of King's Landing. But I promise that it will be a very satisfying chapter once we get to that point. Which in the GoT timeline is a little more than a year away. It'll be good.  
I like that opinion, because you're right. Kingsguard and knights ... they can't coexist in the same man, because no matter what he is forsaking one vow for another. Hmm... my creative neurons are firing and I've got an idea for a future chapter. Woot.

 _Falcon Lair:_ Thank you friend!

 _Darla:_ Thank you so much for your review! I'm so glad that you have fallen in love with my story and that you're enjoying House Forrester. I have never played(?) the telltale game, but I decided to do this story I wanted Jaime's girl to be someone well removed from all the Great Houses and the politics in King's Landing. And as far as fanfictions go, most writers play with the characters they know. (I don't blame them, I do it too. But in a world like GoT there are so many characters and lore that gets missed if you only focus on the Starks, the Baratheons, the Lannisters, Dany. I desperately wanted to play with it and House Forrester gave me that chance.)  
I'm also glad that I am doing a half-way decent job with pre-kingslayer Jaime. I was very nervous when I started writing him, so thank you for that vote of confidence.  
As for the eventual king slaying, will it be Jaime? Perhaps. You'll just have to wait and see.

 _sillygabby:_ Thank you! I'm so glad that you are enjoying this story so far. As for your questions ... I won't tell you if Cersei will still have Jaime's children, but I will say that we haven't seen the last of her yet. Will he kill the king earlier? Only if Evelyne is in extreme danger, we're not there yet.  
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

 _JenRiley16:_ I love your review! And I am so happy that you are astounded and surprised and enjoying Evelyne. Thank you so much! I greatly appreciate hearing (er reading ...) that.

 _Christmas 95:_ Thank you so much. You're not the only one. I really love Jaime and Evelyne too ... obviously. Or I wouldn't still be writing about them. I hope you continue to enjoy it!

That's all I've got for now friends! I will see you soon! (Definitely before Christmas ... I promise!)  
Until next time,  
Chloe Jane.


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